Fully Alive
by WriterExtraordinaire
Summary: Charles and Erik have settled down. They are together and happy. They are starting Charles' school by going to recruit other mutants. However, the government is starting something, something that could potentially destroy everything they've worked for.
1. Emma Frost

Charles Xavier awoke in his study with a start. He opened his eyes and let out a gasp as blinding sunlight hit them. He immediately closed them again, placing a hand over them, blocking out the early morning illumination filtering through the study window. As he pushed himself upright, he cursed and looked at the papers scattered about the desk as well as the bottle of scotch sitting in the nearby corner.

He hadn't planned on sleeping in his study. Truly, he hadn't, but somehow one thing had led to another and before he knew what he was doing, he was working and drinking and avoiding dinner. He'd hardly heard the knock at his door when he'd been called to the dining table the previous evening. He remembered muttering something, but about what he couldn't recall.

Shuffling his notebooks and stacks of typed up documents as well as handwritten ones about his desktop, he licked his lips nervously, hoping Erik wouldn't be too furious with him. This hadn't happened since the end of February and now it was the middle of March. He realized this wasn't a very long time to have been taking good – or rather _better_ – care of himself than he had been in the months before. However, considering what he'd been doing before, he was sure the metal-bender would allow this small slip-up.

Or so he hoped.

Licking his lips a second time, the young telepath, pushed himself away from his desk and began wheeling down the hallway towards the bedroom he now shared with Erik Lehnsherr.

It was strange to think that only six months ago, he'd been lying on a beach in that man's arms, a bullet having just severed his spine, rendering him paralyzed for life. It was even more strange to think that after only three months of being together, the two men had managed to reconcile their differences and allow so many other changes to happen in their lives. One of those being they'd fallen in love. Another was Erik bringing his organization that he'd dubbed the Brotherhood to Charles' mutant friendly mansion.

As he passed by the library, the telepath thought of the other mutants now occupying his home and wondered if things would be as tense as they were now. Honestly, they weren't half as tense as they had been when they'd first arrived. Angel had been somewhat accepted into the younger group of mutants once more, Janos and himself spoke regularly – though his Spanish was extremely botched and had to be worked on, something he did with Erik when he wasn't organizing lesson plans for the school he was trying to open – and Alex Summers, the boy he'd been sure would blast everyone through the roof, was far more accepting than his fellows.

Though Sean Cassidy and Hank McCoy had accepted Angel, they still – for whatever reason – hadn't been able to accept Azazel – though this was probably due to the fact he'd killed Sean's pet rabbit towards the end of winter – Janos, Raven and Erik. Though it had been Alex who attacked Erik when he first returned, it was these other two boys, who now resented him more than ever and Charles was sure it was because he'd brought their enemies into their home.

The man could understand the contempt towards the other members of the Brotherhood, it was the resentment towards Raven that the telepath could not comprehend.

When they'd returned, it had been Angel he was sure the boys wouldn't allow back into their group of friends, but he'd been wrong. It was Raven and, though he'd spent much time observing them and attempting to read their minds when he thought they weren't paying attention – something he preferred not to do – he still couldn't figure it out.

Charles sighed, shaking these thoughts from his mind as he reached his and Erik's bedroom door. He was just placing his fingers on the handle when he heard something that sounded an awful lot like crying coming from the room next door. If he remembered correctly, this was an unused room and there really wasn't a reason as to why anyone should be in there.

_You shouldn't go in there, _he said to himself. _You really should not go in there. Whomever it is, they're in there for privacy and wish to be left alone. Going in would be disturbing that privacy and perhaps even breaking their trust. That's the last thing you should do, considering how things currently are. _

He was just composing himself, prepared to enter his bedroom, slide into bed and curl up next to Erik as though he'd been there the whole night, though he knew the metal-bender would know this wasn't the case, when he heard voice accompanying the soft sobs.

"It's okay, Raven, really," said the voice of Angel. "They didn't like me at first either, remember? I'm sure they'll warm up to you eventually. They can't hate you forever."

"Y-yes they c-can," replied his sister. "Of c-course they can. They h-hate m-me for what-what I did to…to Charles. They h-hate me f-for leaving him th-that day…o-on the beach."

"I left him too," the other girl told her. "So if they –"

Raven cut her off and Charles could almost see her shaking her blue head, her bright red-orange hair, barely moving as she did so. "No, Angel," she said, sounding more heartbroken than ever before.

"Then what is it?" Angel interrupted before Raven could continue. "Do you think it's because you walk around in your blue form now?"

The _without any clothes on _was left unsaid.

However, this was clearly the farthest thing from either girl's mind as the shape-shifter said softly, "They don't hate me because of that either…"

There was a deep, broken sigh and then more words.

"They hate me because I _stayed_ when you first left. They hate me because…after everything…I left my brother when he needed me the most. I left him and now not only does _he_ hate me, but everyone else does too."

As her words cut off, signaling another break down, Charles pressed his trembling fingers to his mouth, tears rising unbidden to his own eyes. These words were ones that Charles hadn't expected, words that nearly broke his own heart to hear. It was true that he hadn't really spoken to Raven since she'd returned either, but he didn't _hate_ her. She was his sister. He could never hate her. He'd never hated her to begin with. He'd been angry with her, yes, but he'd never hated her. The thought had never even occurred to him. Not once. Now, as he listened to her through the crack in the door, he could understand why she felt this way. He didn't speak to her, he avoided eye contact with her and he turned the other way when he saw her come into the room.

The last one was simply because her walking around with no clothes – though nothing really showed to begin with – was still what he considered to be naked. After two weeks, he'd thought he would have gotten used to it, but he hadn't and he still looked away whenever she came into a room undressed. The only times she did dress was when she went with Angel or Erik to the grocery store nearby.

However, the other two, he had no excuse for. He hadn't spoken to her because it felt strange now, he supposed. It was awkward when he tried and he figured this was because of what had happened in September and he avoided eye contact with her because he felt as though she was glaring at him when he did look into her bright yellow eyes. He often wondered what he'd done wrong when he saw them. He always felt like the naughty child around her, though he supposed this was because she had been more of a mother to him than his own.

There was a long silence after Raven spoke. It was during this time that Charles thought about all of the above statements and when he was just remembering how she'd often had to wake him up for school when he'd fallen asleep at the kitchen table doing homework, Angel spoke again, saying something else he did not know.

"Did you know that when Alex shot his lasers at me that day on the beach, he cut off a part of one of my wings?"

The young girl sounded very unhappy about this. In fact, she sounded so sad that before she added anything else, Charles already knew what she was going to say: "And now I can't fly right anymore. I'll never be able to fly right again because my wings are like limbs, they don't grow back."

This time, it was Raven's turn to be silent. The only sound that came from the crack in the door were gasping breaths as the shape-shifter tried to stop her crying.

"R-really?" was all the girl said once she had regained as much composure as she could.

There was a bizarre sound that Charles took to mean was Angel unfolding her wings, then a gasp and he knew Raven had seen the tears in the thin, transparent membranes.

Raven started speaking again, but he didn't stay long enough to hear what she was saying. He'd intruded upon their conversation long enough. It was time for him to say good morning as well as apologize to Erik.

Turning back to the doors he'd pushed open a moment ago, he glanced towards the bed, a smile on his face, a conversation already on his lips when he noticed that the king sized bed was empty. The blankets were pushed back, the drawers were opened, turtlenecks and black slacks spilling out of them, and, though Charles didn't know why he'd expected there to be, there was no note on the nightstand on Erik's side of the bed, explaining where he was.

Though the man he loved was not where he should be, Charles wasn't panicked. He wasn't even worried. In fact, this happened so often that he didn't do anything more than close the door, press his fingers to his temple and try to locate the man.

Not expecting to find him on any of the upper floors, seeing as there were no elevators installed in the Xavier mansion, though really there ought to be, the telepath searched the first floor as well as the basement – the only place there was an elevator leading to it, since Hank and Erik had rebuilt and moved Cerebro down there. When he didn't find him in either one of the places, he felt a slight burst of worry pound through his body, but immediately reminded himself that there was always the possibility that he was out on the grounds and when he searched them he found him.

The place, in which he sensed him, brought a small smile to his face and he turned his wheelchair around, heading for the front doors. Thankfully, there were no steps leading into the house, though the bump the telepath had to go over almost always jiggled him just enough to make him nervous whenever he left the house.

Just as every other day, Charles winced as he went over the bump, but once he past it, he felt find and he wheeled himself over to Erik, who was standing in the exact spot he had when he first moved the satellite just across the way. Though that had been a happy – if extremely emotional – day for the both of them, now, Erik appeared to be what some people might call furiously angry. The metal dish was crinkling at the edges at the look on the metal-bender's face was a murderous one. However, Charles saw right through this façade.

Erik wasn't angry. He was nervous. Though, considering what he was doing to the satellite, the telepath guessed he was extremely nervous. Why he did not know, but he knew he had to find out before he turned the satellite into a pile of disfigured metal.

Placing a gentle hand on the wrist of the hand that was resting on the stone railing, Charles licked his lips and said softly, "Mind telling me why you're crushing a satellite dish?"

At the younger man's voice, Erik dropped his other hand, the one turned the circular piece of metal to mush and turned towards him. For a moment, he stared at him. Then he bent down and pulled him into his arms, giving him what appeared to be a worried hug, which was accompanied by a concerned kiss.

When he pulled away, he stroked the telepath's cheek and said softly, "How are you?"

Drawing his brows together in confusion, he responded, "I'm fine, why do you –" Then, remembering where he'd spent the night, he immediately cut himself off. He let out a sigh and said, "I know you're upset I spent the night in the study and I honestly did not mean to, which is why I apologize. However, I also know that this is not why you're destroying our radio connection, Erik."

This time the meal-bender sighed. He straightened, raised his hand to start crumpling the satellite once more before he lowered his hand, remembering Charles was there and sighed once more. He stayed quiet for a long time, before he finally said, "Emma wants to come to the mansion as well. I told her no, but she threatened to give away our location, so I had no choice but to give her what she wishes."

He glanced towards Charles to see his reaction, but the telepath kept his face smooth.

The younger man was not going to deny that this thought made him nervous. Extremely nervous. He could understand why Erik was so upset. He knew that Erik had broken her out of the prison the CIA put her in, but that didn't make them friends. Far from it. In fact, he knew the only reason he'd gotten her in the first place was so he'd have a telepath on his side as well. That was when they were still enemies, when there might be a chance they had to fight one another.

Now things had changed. They were all living together. Charles and Erik were in love and, though no one else in the mansion currently knew this, it had made a difference in all of their lives. In fact, the telepath was sure it had eased the tension considerably for his X-Men as well as Erik's Brotherhood to see the two of them interacting so cordially.

However, bringing Emma into the picture threatened to erase all of the…somewhat peace, they'd accomplished. She wasn't a nice woman and it wasn't hard to understand why she'd joined Shaw in the first place. The thought of bringing someone like her into his home, made Charles nervous. Yet, at the same time, he would rather their location wasn't given away, so they wouldn't have to move someplace else, especially when the mansion was such an ideal place both for them currently as well as his future plans for converting it into a school.

"I guess we have no choice," he said, looking up at Erik, who was still glancing at him. "The next time she contacts you, let her know she…she can come whenever she's ready." _Which hopefully will be quite some time from now._

Erik nodded and immediately Charles regretted his decision.

Emma Frost was going to ruin everything. There was no doubt about this. His entire future, all of his hopes for this school were going to be destroyed by a single young woman.

_You don't know that, _a voice, sounding far too cheerful for his taste, told him. _She could turn out to be as kind as Janos in the end._

_ Yes, _he replied, _and she could also end up killing us all_

The last bit was, of course, in a figurative sense, but only to an extent. Like Charles she possessed the power of persuasion and there was no telling whether or not she would use said powers on himself or anyone else in the mansion.


	2. Monday

Erik knew why he had agreed to let Emma come to the mansion. But he wondered if Charles fully understood why. Yes, she was a manipulative, cold-hearted woman who could give away their location in a second if she really wanted to, but there was much more to it than that. Sighing for what seemed to be the hundredth time that morning, Erik remembered the vow he had made to protect his new-found family, even if that meant bringing Emma Frost into their lives. He figured that she became tired of flying solo, but then again, she could easily manipulate others to do whatever she needed for her. It made no sense.

They all sat at the dining room table, quiet conversations passing between the sounds of forks against the china plates and bacon being crunched between teeth. Erik sat quietly, pondering questions he already knew the answers to. Occasionally he would glance around the table, absorbing the positive energy that radiated around the occupants of the room. No one who had seen the two groups that day on the beach would ever think them to be sitting together over breakfast like it was routine.

_And she's going to ruin it all, _Erik thought bitterly as he speared his fork into the sausage link on his plate. Suddenly all traces of his appetite vanished. The fork dropped with a loud clang and those at the table stared at him in shock.

"It slipped," he covered, his tone blasé and annoyed. As the others returned to their own plates, Erik could feel Charles's worrisome gaze.

_I'm fine, Charles, really. _Erik sent, tentatively picking up his fork again, only to push his food around in the excess maple syrup. But he knew the telepath would not drop the matter.

_You know, I don't have to read your mind to know when you're lying, _Charles replied, eyes still locked on Erik. No one paid much attention, but Erik felt vulnerable, something that he did not enjoy.

_Charles, please…_With that, the connection was broken. Erik shut his eyes briefly before quietly excusing himself from the table. Striding out of the room, he wanted nothing more than to turn around and apologize to Charles: tell him he's sorry, and worried, not just for the telepath, but for everyone in the house. But it was too late now. It was then that Erik felt a now-fleeting trace of Charles in his mind.

_Come find me when you're ready to talk._

Erik soon found himself back in the solitude of the library. There was something that always drew him to the dimly lit shelves of dusty books and worn leather armchairs. Maybe it was because the library reminded him of Charles. Warm, filled with knowledge, and isolated from the rest of the world. It was the one place where Erik didn't have to pretend to be anything more or less than himself, and Charles was the one person who made him feel the same way.

The metal-bender settled himself into an armchair across from a window. The sun gave the cavernous room all the warmth it needed, and there Erik gave way to the thoughts that plagued his mind. Sean and Hank still hadn't forgiven him, but he wasn't looking for _their_ acceptance. Nevertheless, it made Erik uncomfortable to know that they still resented Raven for leaving. As much as he understood, they didn't know how much it hurt her. And seeing Raven hurt and broken, hurt Charles, which in turn hurt Erik. There was nothing but hurt going around, with Erik in the center, turning the wheel.

Then there was Emma. Erik could think of twenty different reasons why she would want to come to the mansion. But the question that lingered in the air was, "Why?" Why did she pick now of all times to contact Erik and ask to come to the mansion? Was she monitoring them? Keeping tabs so just as things were starting to look up, she had to come in and stir the pot for her own amusement? Erik slid further into the seat of the chair and thought of the previous night.

* * *

><p><em>Charles was already asleep, breathing just loud enough for Erik to hear through the bathroom door. Staring at his reflection, Erik reveled in the light his eyes now held. He was…<em>happy_. He continued to watch himself, amazed that this sort of feeling was possible. Especially for him. Just as he started to head towards the door, the familiar pressure of having someone in his head stopped him._

Charles? _He called, slightly alarmed, ready to act if something was wrong. And something _was _wrong. A high throaty laugh rang through Erik's mind that definitely did _not_ belong to the man in the bedroom._

_ "Emma," he whispered._ _His tone then turned hard and annoyed. _I believe I've told you to never read my mind, Emma. Or have you forgotten in my absence? 

_The female telepath laughed once more before replying, _Well since you left and took the others with you, there was no need to keep following your orders. _Erik clenched his fist and tried to remain calm._

Was there something you wanted, or did you just want to say goodnight? _Erik opened the door slightly, making sure that Charles was still asleep. He shut the door again and waited for her to answer._

A little bit of both, actually. There is something that I want. _Erik rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Is this what Charles feels all the time? _He thought to himself, but of course he knew that Emma heard him as well._

Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess? Because I'm sure that you know telepathy does not work both ways for most. _Erik was running out of patience. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed next to Charles, and not worry about anything for the next seven hours. _

I want to come to the mansion, _she said finally. There was no mistaking what Erik heard._

No. _It was hard and final. There was no way that Erik would allow a homicidal telepath into Charles's home. But that didn't stop Emma._

Oh, I'm sorry, let me rephrase that. _Her voice, even in Erik's head, was sickly sweet, but defiant and disdainful. _You are going to let me come to the mansion, Erik. And you will convince the others to let me stay there.

Like hell I will, _Erik sent. _Why should I even consider letting you come, or tell the others to allow it? _He refrained from using Charles's name just in case Emma got any ideas about harming him. If she did, not even her diamond form would protect her from Erik._

Because I know where you are. _This stopped Erik dead in his tracks. It was true. In order for Janos, Azazel, and Angel to be able to come to the mansion, Erik had to tell Emma where they were. He buried his face in his hands in realization that it was once again his actions that were putting the ones he cared for in danger._

I'm sure the CIA would be very interested to know where a group of mutants are hiding out. Don't you think so, too, _Magneto_?

Why are you doing this, Emma? _Erik asked, trying to keep his voice even. Was she really so lost without a leader that she would willingly come to the mansion just to be with the others? Erik knew she liked attention—he knew all too well—but it was unlike her to be…lonely. Or express loneliness. _

_She gave no reply to the question, but asked one of her own. _Have you decided to let me stay with you? _There was no denying her. If Erik wanted to protect Charles and everyone else, he had no choice._

_He sighed and sent back, _Fine. You can stay. 

Thank you, Erik. _Her voice became light again, almost patronizing. _See, was that so hard? _Erik said nothing, but opened the door again and headed out into the bedroom. _

Goodnight…Magneto._ Then she was gone. Erik almost felt sick with the thought of how he was going to tell Charles and the others the next day. Hank and Sean would finally make good on their promise to kill him once they found out, and Raven would throw the hissy fit of the century. But there was nothing he could do anymore that night, other than try to find a way to make things right again._

_Pulling back the covers on his side of the bed, Erik slipped under and rested his head on the pillow. The full moon shone overhead shedding pale light into the room. Erik gazed at the stars, the moon, and listened to the gentle sounds of the night. Turning on his side, he gazed at Charles's sleeping form. They were a family now, and no matter what was coming, Erik would do everything to protect them._

* * *

><p>Erik woke with a start. Someone was in the room with him. If it were one of the boys, or Raven, or even Charles, he would know. But there was no one around, at least no one he could see. Instead, there was a faint pressure in his head. It was not unlike Charles's presence, but Erik knew the difference.<p>

_Emma. _Erik stood and waited for her to make her presence fully known to him.

_Bravo, Erik, _she sent. He could hear faint clapping in the background. It annoyed him that he could not see her so he could wring her neck. _I do believe you're getting better at telling the difference between your telepath friend and I. I applaud you._

_ I don't have time for games, Emma, _Erik spat at her. _If you want to know if you can stay here, then the answer is yes. Come whenever you're ready, but just give us fair warning. _Erik began to head towards the library doors. He was in no mood to deal with her.

_Tsk, tsk, tsk. Someone's not in a very happy mood. Everything alright? _Erik considered her extremely lucky that she was not standing in from of him at that moment.

_Everything is just fine, Emma. Thank you for your concern. _The man left the library and headed to the room he shared with Charles. It was time to put the helmet back on. Even if it meant that he and Charles would not be able to communicate with each other, it also meant Emma would not be able to get under his skin.

_If that's all you wanted to know, then you can leave us alone now. We'll see you when we see you. _He all but nearly flung the door off its hinges before barreling into the bedroom and ducking under his side of the bed. He pulled out the helmet and dusted it off.

Before the inside of the helmet reached his head, Emma sent him one final message. _There is no need for such drastic measures, Erik. I'll leave you alone. _

_And how do I know that you will? _He couldn't trust her, no one could.

_I am a woman of my word, Erik. You're just going to have to have a little faith. _Erik snorted at this. Who was she to tell him that he needed faith?

_I'll be arriving next Saturday. That's all I had to tell you. Take care of yourself 'til then._

She was gone. Erik brought his hands down in front of him, the helmet cold against his skin. He placed it back underneath the bed and sat down. It was Monday, which gave him a week and five days to get ready for her arrival. Erik's gaze took him through the window, outside to the large oak tree. There was still some snow on the branches and around the base of the trunk, but soon the snow would melt and the tree would begin to bud. _If only things could be that simple_.


	3. Accidents

After Charles told Erik to find him when he needed him, the telepath continued to eat his breakfast, carefully watched by those around him. It wasn't surprising that they all believed the only reason he ate was because Erik made him. What the majority of them didn't know was that he ate because Alex had told him what would happen if he didn't. It was for this reason that only he was still casually eating his breakfast, while the others gave their professor worried glances in between bites of toast and bacon.

However, despite this, the rest of the meal was eaten in silence by everyone. No one left the table until the telepath finished the last bite of his breakfast. It was only then that cheerful conversation started as Raven got up from her seat to put her plate in the kitchen to be washed. It wasn't her turn for kitchen duty, but she took the liberty to gather up the rest of the plates that were cleaned by their owners. She was halfway around the table when she reached Hank. She was stretching out her arm to take his plate when he said something that was completely appalling and entirely unlike him.

"I don't want a whore touching anything I have."

The room, which had been filled with quiet but cheerful conversation only moments previously, silenced once more. Everyone's eyes turned to either Raven or Hank. Angel's hands were pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide. Charles was staring shocked at the young mutant who had just insulted his sister just as were Alex, Sean, Azazel, and Janos, though the two boys didn't appear quite as appalled as the two men did.

For a moment, it was unknown as to where the remark had come from, but when Raven looked at Azazel, who swallowed and Charles remembered that, though he had come to accept her walking around naked in her natural blue form, the others had not. Once he took all of this into account, it wasn't hard to see why Hank had said what he did. However, this did not make it any less insulting.

When the moment of initial shock passed, Raven's fingers tightened around the plates she was already holding. She drew her hand away from Hank's platter fingers shaking, before she dropped the rest of them. They crashed loudly to the floor, shattering into small pieces of sharp and dangerous porcelain. She seemed just as startled by this as the rest of them and glaring at Hank, tears in her eyes, she rushed out of the room, strangled sounds of tears she was trying to keep at bay coming from the back of her throat.

Angel raced after her, as did Azazel and, feeling awkward left with those he did not know and didn't particularly like him – save for Charles – Janos left the room as well. Alex, Hank and Sean were standing to leave as well, but the telepath held his hand up to stop them saying, "Ah, please sit down. I need to speak with you." He was looking at Hank as he said this, but he turned to the other boys, adding, "All of you."

The nervousness displayed on the three boys' faces was undeniable. Hank was shaking, slightly, while Alex and Sean were fiddling with their silverware, since Raven hadn't bothered to pick that up when she took the plates. Charles watched them do this as he tried to find the right words. It wasn't that he was delaying the inevitable conversation. In fact, he'd been meaning to have it for quite some time now. However, it was only this morning that it was brought to his attention just how much Hank's rudeness, Sean's ignoring and Alex's mixture of the two was hurting his younger sister that the telepath realized he had to do something to stop it.

Placing his hands in his lap, sighing tiredly, he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He pinched the bridge of nose and took a deep breath, before he began to speak, "Now, it has come to my attention that the lot of you are quite unhappy with Raven and, as we witnessed only moments previously, are showing it as well."

As he glanced around the three boys at the table, he noticed how they were all staring at their hands, which were in their laps. They all looked ashamed of themselves, but he knew it was not for hurting Raven. It was for disappointing him and he knew this wouldn't stop unless they understood what exactly they were doing to her. She'd never been the victim of bullying before. Not in school, not outside of it either and now that these three boys had decided they didn't like her, three boys who had once been her friends, she didn't know how to handle it by herself.

"I want you to know, this is hurting her greatly and I know this is your intention because you are angry with her. What I don't understand is why. Why are you still angry with her when you have already accepted Angel back into your group of friends once more? By all rights it's her you should still be angry with, is it not? She is the one who left you to begin with, even after Shaw had killed your friend Darwin. It was not Raven that did this, so I ask you again: why is it that you dislike her and not Angel?"

The room stayed silent for several moments as the three of them contemplated this.

Finally, Hank said softly, "Because she left you when you needed her most."

"That doesn't matter," Charles countered instantly. "At that moment, what Raven needed most was acceptance and I couldn't give that to her. Erik could. That is why she left with him."

"You'd just been paralyzed, professor," the other mutant replied. "You couldn't leave that beach until Moira got a medical helicopter over to you from the nearest hospital. You needed her with you then. She's supposed to be your sister and isn't family always supposed to stick together no matter what?"

For this, Charles had no answer. Hank did have a point, but it was not one that he was going to acknowledge. Instead, he repeated basically what he'd said before, "My needs were not a priority to her at that moment. She was given one chance to be with people who would accept her for looking the way she does, who would never make fun of her for her scales or her blue skin. She chose this over people who would not accept her and for this, I do not blame her at all and neither should you."

The words really weren't a repetition after all and the telepath still was unsure as to whether he'd gotten through to them, but once he finished speaking, he nodded and said, "Alright you may leave."

To his surprise, the boys didn't get up to leave straight away. They all glanced towards the space where the dishes had fallen. Sean opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Charles saying, "I'll clean it up, alright?" Though they all appeared a bit apprehensive about this, considering that their professor couldn't walk, much less bend over a stack of broken porcelain plates on the floor, they still nodded and left the room.

Once they did, Charles pressed his fingers to his temple and called for Erik. He'd felt a disturbance in the other's mind during his meeting with the boys and he was unsure as to what it was. He needed to make sure that the metal-bender was alright.

_Erik, what happened?_

He was met by silence for too long. He was just about to call to him again, when he finally got a response from the other man.

_Emma told me she's coming Saturday next. _

The connection was broken after this. Charles pushed himself away from the table and towards the shards of the plates, wondering what was going to happen when the other telepath arrived. He was sure that Erik was tempted to wear his helmet again. He'd half thought that the metal-bender had gotten rid of it once he'd decided to stay, but this was a foolish idea. He'd known all along that something like this was going to happen. They both had. And now that it was happening, Charles couldn't decide if he was glad or upset that his friend had kept that helmet after all.

Shaking his head, he decided it didn't matter and bent over, trying to pick up some of the larger pieces of the porcelain. He pressed his hand tight against the arm of his wheelchair and leaned down, grabbing a few shards before he pushed himself back up and placed them on the table. He did this over and over again, until at last he had the majority of them on the table where he knew he could sweep them into a bag and throw them away.

He was just reaching down to grab the last large piece when he slipped and fell from his wheelchair to the floor.

The palm of his hand slid against the sharp edge of the piece his fingertips had been ghosting over a moment before. His skin was split wide open, so quickly he didn't feel it until he turned his hand over and saw the blood welling up from the deep gash. He let out a gasp of pain and pressed the fingers of his other hand against the wound, trying not to groan in pain. He'd fallen on some of the small pieces as well and a few of those had nicked his abdomen, causing him to bleed from more than just his hand. He was unsure as to whether his legs had been delivered any of the abuse seeing as he couldn't feel them, but his guess was no. They were covered by a thick blanket and he didn't think even porcelain could fight its way through the tough stitching that held the blanket together.

Pushing aside some of the shattered plate, Charles lay his head down on the ground and called for Erik, the pain resonating throughout his own mind as well as the room. However, he couldn't touch the metal-bender's mind.

He was wearing that godforsaken helmet.

A few tears of frustration as well as physical pain escaped his eyes and trailed down his face to the floor. He knew that Erik wasn't hiding his mind from him, but he wished he hadn't chosen this moment to do so. He refused to call for assistance from anyone else.

_Erik…please…_

The cries were in vain, he knew, but he kept them up, hoping that for some reason the other man would take off the helmet and hear him crying out.


	4. If Things Were Different

He knew that he shouldn't have done it. One minute Erik was sitting on the bed he and Charles shared—telepathy-blocking helmet securely on his head, staring across the room into nothing, regretting his actions with every passing second—and the next, the sound of Charles pleading and crying out in pain awoke him from his reverie. The helmet may have been able to block Emma from his mind, but it could no better muffle a cry of agony and desperation than a piece of paper. Erik sprang from the bed, ripping the helmet off before crashing through the door. He sprinted into the dining room to find Charles on the floor amidst shattered porcelain and leftover food. There his heart sank and tore at the seams, for once again Charles was hurt in the wake of Erik's pride.

Erik opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come. Without a moment's hesitation, the metal-bender stepped over the broken and wasted plates and gathered Charles in his arms. The scene was all too familiar to the both of them, but neither said a word.

_No, _Erik thought pushing the bitter memory out of his mind. _Things are different now. I'm not leaving you, Charles. Not again, not ever. _He knew that Charles had heard him, but no response came. Erik then picked his fallen lover up gently, as if he would shatter into a thousand pieces. But Erik already knew that he had. Over and over again for months. He was finally doing well: the cracks in his heart stitched over and beginning to heal only to be torn apart again by this fresh act of betrayal. Yes, betrayal. Erik's chest tightened with every step knowing that he had not been there when Charles needed him the most, and if it wasn't for Emma, he would have never put the damned helmet on in the first place. Then again if it wasn't for Hank's comment and the other boys acting like immature children towards Raven, she would have never dropped the plates. Charles would be fine, and everyone would've continued on with the morning as usual. Erik could have blamed everyone from Shaw to Charles's parents, to Sean's now-dead pet rabbit. But in the end it was useless. There was no one to blame but himself.

They said nothing to each other as Erik carried Charles out of the dining room. Just then, doors began to open loudly and there were hurried footsteps running towards the staircase. Alex, Hank, Sean, and to Erik's surprise, Raven and Azazel appeared. Alex and Hank stood at the front of the group, ready to defend Charles and the others if necessary, Sean's face wore the same expression but showed traces of immense worry. Erik paid them no mind and continued swiftly towards the bedroom. One thing he did notice however was Azazel's protective stance in front of Raven. If it were a different day, he would have pressed the matter further, but there were more important things to be dealt with.

Once inside the bedroom, Erik laid Charles in the middle of the plush comforter then took a seat in the leather armchair in the corner. He buried his head in his hands and waited. There was nothing but echoing silence both verbally and telepathically. What was there even to say? Instead, the two men just sat unmoving, unyielding in their stubborn silence. Erik did not want to be the first to break, but he was dangerously close. Besides the obvious rambling apologies, what could he say? What wouldn't he say? More time passed before either of the two made any sort of movement.

Soon the quiet was too much for Erik to bear. In a low, gentle voice he said, "Charles?" There was no reply. Not even the feeling of Charles inside the metal-bender's head. There was only breathing, the slow ticking of the clock on the mantle of the fireplace, and the sound of the early Spring wind whistling through the bare branches of the trees. Before he grew even more uncomfortable with remorse and self-loathing, Erik spoke again.

"I know—" he paused not knowing how to proceed. "I'm sorry, Charles. I am so, so very sorry. I just couldn't have her in my head." Erik's gaze remained fixed on the floor. There was no way that Erik could deny that if he had not been so mad with power in Cuba Charles would have never been shot, he would never have reason to form the Brotherhood, he would probably have never had a chance to wear the helmet…Raven would still feel unaccepted in society, Emma would take over and make the world even more of a hell than it already was...Charles would be able to open and run his school, Erik would have finally found a place where he felt at home…

As Erik dreamed, Charles slowly began to open his eyes. Erik continued to sit with his head bowed wishing for a chance to undo everything and start over again. An hour had passed and the two men remained mute. The lack of sound made Erik's entire being hurt. It was not long though, that the stillness was broken by a weak, almost ragged voice.

_This is what she wants, Erik. _Charles projected. The metal-bender's head snapped to attention, eyes wide with thankfulness, but hesitant in showing his joy. _She wants to separate us. Use our weaknesses against us. Each other. _From his chair, Erik moved unconsciously towards the edge of the bed where he knelt down and stared into Charles' bright sapphire eyes.

"How does she know?" Erik asked softly. Even in his fragile state, Charles rolled his eyes and scoffed causing him to wince and clutch his left side gingerly. Erik ghosted his hands over the area where Charles had laid his own palm, frantically searching for the spot that caused him pain. Charles stopped him and took Erik's rough hands in his own.

_She has seen your mind, Erik, _Charles explained. _She knows just as much about you as I do._ Erik shook his head fiercely at the statement.

"She knows nothing about me, Charles." His steel eyes bore into the blue.

"That's why I did it, Charles. All of it. Bringing the Brotherhood here, trying so hard to help them and you at the same time…" Erik looked down momentarily before continuing, "I felt something was going to happen to you. Not this, not Emma coming, but something that could be prevented by inviting the Brotherhood to stay." He need not go on. Charles understood.

"But then _she _had to ruin it all." He looked down at the comforter of the bed once more and sighed. "If there was a way to block only certain telepaths from my head, I would find it and use it everyday. But there's only one way and it doesn't help me any more than I thought it would." His voice was almost pleading now. There was a soft sigh that came from above Erik's head. He looked up to find Charles' head leaning against the headboard, eyes closed, mouth moving rapidly in hushed speech. He heard nothing until words actually produced themselves from Charles' mouth.

"Nothing is as it's made out to be is it, then?" His voice was hoarse and airy. Erik shook his head and remained kneeling at the bedside. Charles looked down at Erik and tried to give him a smile, but it turned to a grimace as he unintentionally shifted his torso and winced again.

Erik stomach began to churn as he helped Charles ease the pressure off of his back. They remained by the other's side for the rest of the day: barely speaking, each one thinking that if one thing had changed in the past, their entire lives up to that moment would be altered forever. Erik especially had trouble with this. Everything he had done had had a purpose. What if that purpose changed? Then where would he be? He would have never met Charles, or known of other mutants existing in the world…

_Ding dong._ The clamoring of chimes did not startle Erik as much as Charles' hand suddenly landing on his arm with a sharp grab. The metal-bender instantly reacted, but Charles shook his head in protest, saying that he was fine. Erik was puzzled for a moment before the clarity was given to the situation.

_Knock, knock, Erik. Guess who's here?_ It was a high female voice, with venom laced between the mock semi-sweet overtones that radiated through his head. There was only one person who possessed such a voice, but they were not to disturb him at any time. _Unless...no, it can't be. _ Erik stood and headed for the door. With one last look back at Charles, he proceeded to the entry hall where immediately he not only knew, but saw that it was not venom that was harbored in the woman's voice, but cold, hard ice.


	5. Change of Plans

Charles didn't hear the voice resonating through Erik's mind, but he knew there was another presence there and the moment the doorbell rang, he knew who was at his front door. Panic filled him almost instantly. He wasn't prepared for this. Not yet. He hadn't even spoken with the others about Emma's invading of their home. However, she was here now, long before the young telepath was expecting her. He'd thought he'd have a few weeks to prepare at least.

Normally, he would have pushed himself up and gone to the front door to support Erik in the argument he was evidently going to have with the diamond hearted woman. But he didn't have his wheelchair anywhere nearby and he was in no condition to leave his bed anyhow.

As Erik and Emma began speaking in hushed tone downs the hall, the telepath removed the trembling fingers of his left hand from his right side. Only moments earlier it seemed, Eirk had been full of worry, wanting to know what it was that pained him. He had stopped the older man from inspecting this area and now as he saw the crimson liquid thickly coating his fingertips he was glad he'd done so.

It was clear that he was badly injured. There were cuts and bruises all over his body, but it was obvious that this was the worst one, the one he should be worrying about. He returned his fingers to his wound and pressed into it in an attempt to know the full extent of the damage done due to the shards of the porcelain plates.

As a child, Charles Xavier had experienced much pain. His stepfather as well as his stepbrother had seen to that. It was for this reason that he thought he would be prepared for the agony of probing at an injury such as this one. However, it appeared that the body never truly was able to learn to accept such pain, no matter how much similar agony it had already endured. He'd known it was going to hurt. He'd known he would have to bite his lip until it bled to keep himself from crying out, but he had not expected it to hurt this much.

There was no way he could have stopped the cry of pain that escaped his lips. He bit his lip, tasting blood as his fingers dug further into the wound, but he could not stop himself from moaning as his fingers jostled a bit of porcelain that was still stuck in his side. He tried to grasp at it with his thumb and forefinger, but it was too slick with his own blood and he wasn't entirely sure that pulling it out in the comfort of his own home, rather than in a professional, sterilized hospital, would be that good of an idea anyhow. He could bleed to death if he wasn't careful. His doctorate was in genetics, not medicine.

Stars mixed with black dots burst behind his eyelids as he accidentally shifted the shard, cutting deeper into his pale flesh. He heard a yell of agony and it was only when he heard footsteps pounding down the hall after he tore his fingers free of the ragged patch of skin that had once been the right side of his waist.

"Professor!" the voice of Alex resonated through the room. "Professor, are you alright?"

The young mutant boy was next to his telepath professor within seconds of entering the room. He saw the red stain that was now soaking the other's white button-up t-shirt and blue cardigan and gasped. He pushed the hand covering the wound aside and when Hank and Raven came in asking what was going on and what was wrong, he said, "He's bleeding…but I don't know why."

"He fell in that pile of plates Raven dropped."

Alex turned towards the door to see Erik squeezing through the clump of mutant children crowding the entrance to their bedroom. Charles noticed how the metal-bender placed a reassuring hand on Raven's shoulder as he entered, letting her know this was not her fault, which she, no doubt, believed that it was.

However, Erik's admission did not escape the ears of the others in the room, which was made apparent when Hank narrowed his eyes and said through gritted teeth, "He _what_?"

"It…it was an accident, Hank…" the telepath gasped out, struggling to draw breath as the metal-bender took his place on the side Alex was not. "She…she didn't know that…this would happen. It's…not her fault, alright?"

"Not her _fault_?" The younger mutant sounded incredulous. "What do you _mean_ not her fault? Of course it's her fault! She's the one who dropped the damn plates! If she hadn't done that then –"

That was all the further Hank got before he was shoved up against the wall by Azazel, a large knife at his throat. The look on the teleporter's face was a dangerous one and only intensified by the scars that had created canyons in his skin long ago. It was this coupled with his knife and Raven's distressed, tearful expression that silenced the younger mutant.

"That's enough, _tovarishch_," the red-skinned man hissed. The knife was beginning to dig into Hank's blue skin, drawing red droplets that slid off the blade and beaded on his fur.

"Azazel," Erik said, looking up from Charles to save the young mutant's life.

Despite the metal-bender's command, the teleporter did not move. His tail flicked back and forth like an annoyed cat's. His red knuckles paled from his tight grip on the machete. The panic that was in his eyes didn't show on his face, but the telepath knew him well enough that he could see the hidden worry.

It was a moment more before Azazel finally dropped his blade and stepped away from Hank. As he did so, the entire room seemed to let out a collective sigh. Charles couldn't help but notice how Raven went to stand next to the teleporter the moment he moved away from the young fur-covered mutant. He was sure he was the only one who noticed how their fingers laced together before she moved so her scaly blue body was shielding this from view.

Closing his eyes, the young professor swallowed and took several deep breaths before he found the strength to speak again. "Now…that's taken care of…I think we can all agree…I…I need a hospital…so…therefore…Erik will take me to the one where I was treated in the fall… when I was paralyzed…no one is coming with me…except Erik…"

It was amazing how, despite his condition Charles still managed to be the one who led them all. However, at the mention that only Erik would be allowed to go with him to the hospital, chaos broke out. Alex, Sean, Raven, Angel and Hank began talking over one another, giving their own opinions as to why they should be allowed to go along to the hospital and why the others should stay home. It was clear that Erik didn't agree with the telepath's decision either, yet he said nothing. He only turned to him, a look of panic on his face and immediately the younger man remembered what had been forgotten in the last ten minutes.

Emma.

What would happen if they left her alone with the students still here? What would happen if they left her alone with the rest of the original Brotherhood? What would happen if they left her here alone?

The possibilities were endless and Charles didn't want to think about any one of them. It appeared they were only left with one option: everyone had to come to the hospital with them. That was the only way they could make sure Emma didn't do anything that would completely ruin the community they'd managed to create over the past couple of months.

Wincing, Charles sighed again, closing his eyes once more. "Change of plans…"


	6. No Good Deed

The words came out of Charles's mouth in staggered breaths. Erik stiffly turned to face the telepath, eyes half closed in frustration and anxiety. No one spoke, but there were curious glances made towards the metal-bender. Erik drew in a breath as he heard Charles' voice in his head.

_They have a right to know, Erik. _Even without verbally saying a word, Erik could hear the pain.

_You shouldn't exert yourself…but I will tell them. There's a good chance she'll walk in the door at any—_

Just before Erik could finish his sentence, the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floor filled the ears of the occupants of the bedroom. Before their eyes, and much to Erik's discontentment, stood Emma Frost, her shocking white clothes causing those closest to her to shield their eyes.

"—Second." Erik straightened and faced the second telepath with aggression pouring out from his eyes. But there she stood, hands on her hips, a condescending smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. It took about half a second before another round of questions and shouting filled the air.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Erik closed his eyes, letting Alex's question hang in the air unanswered. Hank let out a low growl, catching the newcomer's attention.

"Down boy," she said clicking her tongue. "If I knew I was going to get that kind of reception, I would have made a bigger entrance." She peered around the bedroom, her eyes judging its occupants, more so Erik who let out a heavy sigh, than anyone else.

"Well if that's any way to greet me _Magneto_, then you shouldn't have let me come in the first place." All eyes snapped to Erik, who had flinched slightly at his codename.

"You did WHAT?" Raven cried out. Her eyes narrowed at Erik and then the others in the room. "What the hell were you thinking? You couldn't even bother to tell us earlier?" Erik remained silent—a stoic statue that revealed nothing about the inner battle that he was fighting at the moment: Defend his reasons, or take Charles to the hospital immediately. Of course he knew that the right choice was to grab Azazel and have him transport Charles and himself to the hospital, but it was much more complicated than that now. It always was.

"Erik…" Charles whispered from the bed. There was no way of avoiding the inevitable. He had to tell them and beg to not be killed in front of Charles, although Emma would have enjoyed the show.

Letting out another deep sigh, Erik said in forced tones, "Miss Frost contacted me early _yesterday_—" he spat through gritted teeth at the woman, "That she was going to be arriving soon…" He wanted to add, _Not this soon_, but thought it was best to leave just enough room for the imagination. It was too bad, however that the others' imaginations weren't up to par. Confused and angry looks were either pointed at Emma or Erik.

"I asked Charles if it was alright for her to come and stay with us for a while, to which he agreed." The metal-bender turned to Emma with a pointed look, "What he did _not_ agree to however, was for her to show up a week earlier than expected before I had a chance to tell any of you."

"But why would you even agree to that?" Alex spoke out. Erik sent a glance back at Charles, but then faced the young man.

"That's not the point right now," he said, deflecting the question once more. "We have bigger problems than Emma showing up unannounced. We need to get Charles to the hospital, and we can't leave you all here with her."

Emma cocked an eyebrow and scoffed, "Really, Magneto—or, I'm assuming you've returned to using Erik now—I'm surprised you think I would do anything wrong." He wasn't fooled in the least, but kept his face solid. No one else seemed to buy her act, either. They all exchanged suspicious looks—even Janos and Azazel seemed skeptical, but then again, they knew what she was capable of…and so did Erik.

"And why should I believe that? What makes you think I have any reason to trust you here?" Emma turned and stared just stared at the metal-bender. Her eyes were cold and hard, but her voice remained steady as if she was bored with the whole situation.

"Because, Erik," she said matter-of-factly, "Charles needs to get to a hospital, and from the look of it, I'd say he needs to rather quickly. And he did say that you were the only one who was to go with him, so why are you bothering to stay here while he is in pain and argue with me over my decisions? Seems like a pretty good way to waste precious time, to me."

She was right. Erik knew it, Charles knew it, they all did. But that didn't mean he was just going to leave Emma Frost alone with the children. Either she would do something to get them killed, or they would kill her (which as Erik thought more about the idea, it didn't seem like a bad option). Lost in thought, Erik didn't catch Charles inhaling sharply as he tried to move so he could face the group in his room.

"Erik, please, you know she's right." He didn't budge. "Miss Frost—" It was the first time that Charles had addresses the female telepath since she arrived. "If you would be so kind as to accompany us, that would make the situation a whole lot less complicated." Erik whipped around and gaped at Charles. He was either joking or delirious—surely those were the only explanations for his suggestion. With one look though, Erik understood that it was the only way to keep everyone else safe. He nodded in defeat, to which Emma smiled sweetly.

"See, Erik? That wasn't such a difficult decision to make after all, now was it?" She then faced Charles, who couldn't help but look more vulnerable than he already was. "Thank you Charles, for extending this courtesy." Before Erik could move to wring her neck for her snide remarks, Charles stopped him.

_Please, Erik. We can talk to her alone that way, ask why she's really here. _

_I don't like this, Charles. I don't have a good feeling about her. _Charles almost laughed at this, but stopped himself before Erik could chastise him.

_Do you think that I like this any more than you do? But we have no choice right now. If we leave her here, she'll potentially turn the others against us again. All these weeks of progress would be for nothing._

_ And if she comes with us?_ There was a break in the conversation as Emma turned the attention towards herself. "Have something so say, Emma?" Erik asked, slightly annoyed.

She smirked before replying, "Just wondering when we'll be leaving. I'm sure you're _dying_ to pepper me with questions." If Charles hadn't stopped him again, Erik would have sent the next piece of heavy metal flying at her for insinuating that Charles was dying.

Instead, he centered himself—even only for a minute—and delegated the task of retrieving Charles's wheelchair from the dining room to Sean. Within a few minutes, the three mutants were off into town to get the medical attention that Charles required. The car ride was tense until Erik broke the silence.

"So what's the real reason for you visit Emma? I'm sure it wasn't just to have a friendly chat or say that you've changed, so why are you here?" Signs on the side of the road that marked the miles passed them in a blur. Charles lay in the back, his head still throbbing, but he was conscious enough to hear the conversation up front.

"Well you can't blame me Erik for feeling a little left out when you took Riptide, Azazel and Angel. The boys I understand, but depriving me of another woman's company is just cruel. Who else am I supposed to gossip with while painting my nails?" Her sarcasm was enough to make Erik strangle her at that moment. She had been a valuable asset once upon a time, but times had changed.

"We both know you don't paint your nails, Emma, so why don't you just cooperate and answer the question?" As the car sped into the parking lot of the hospital, Erik found a spot and stopped the car. He turned to Charles, who nodded for him to continue questioning her.

"I'm only going to ask once more, Emma. Why are you here?" His words were clipped and pointed. The female telepath looked between the two men and set her jaw.

"I'll tell you my reasons if you tell me yours." Erik knew exactly what she meant, but he wasn't going to give her what she wanted so easily.

"How do I know you'll keep your word? You haven't exactly been the most trustworthy person that I know."

She let out a short laugh, high and amused that he would think that. "Honestly Erik, it's like you don't know me at all." Her voice then became low and sultry, "I thought you trusted me enough to let me be with you before. What happened to that?"

Resisting the urge to look back at Charles, whom he was sure was questioning what Emma had said, Erik's voice rang with danger. "Obviously you were mistaken then. I left because I had to. I needed to. And I would do it again. So tell us now, Emma, why are you here?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed as she spoke. "I know some things. It has to do with the government. I don't know exactly what, but it pertains to you more than me. I came to tell you both and help if I can." This was an entirely different side of her that Erik had ever seen. For a moment he considered the fact that she had changed, but there was always a price. No good deed went unpunished either to the person doing the deed, or to the people receiving it. Once inside the hospital room, the guilt that Erik had felt for months came back to haunt him. Seeing Charles in a hospital bed reminded him of the price he was still paying for, and watching Emma flip through a magazine, bored and full of knowledge that they could use to their advantage, reminded him why he was trying in the first place.


	7. Not Again

Despite the fact that he needed surgery to have the porcelain shard removed, the doctors told Charles that he would be able to go home within the next couple of days. Though he disliked hospitals and could convince the doctors taking care of him to release him early, the telepath knew this was for his own good. He also figured he may as well take this time to speak with Emma and Erik about whatever it was the government was planning for mutants.

Though he was pretending not to be for the sake of the others, he was, in truth, very worried. He couldn't help thinking back when he and Erik had been sitting on the steps of the Lincoln monument so many months ago. He wondered if the metal-bender was right, if what had happened before in Europe was going to happen again, only this time much closer to home.

These thoughts were the ones running through his head when there was a rather loud knock at his door. Jumping, he turned towards the sound and saw Erik slowly coming through, Emma on his heels. He didn't seem to be too pleased about this, while the diamond woman was smirking. A part of Charles felt instantly protective of the metal-bender. He carefully searched his mind, making sure the woman wasn't invading it before he pushed himself up in bed and said, "I'm glad you're here, both of you."

"I wanted to visit you alone," Erik said simply, his eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest, his fingers digging into his flesh through the black turtleneck.

"And I wanted to speak with you more about the Mutant Registration Act." Emma tossed her hair back as she said this, her fingers curling around her hipbones. She licked her glossed lips and cocked her head to one side, staring curiously at Charles, but the telepath was still trying to take in what she had just said.

It was clear that Erik was just as interested in what the woman had to say. His eyes were wide, he was swallowing nervously and his fingers dug into his skin were shaking. It took only one lucky glance for the telepath to notice the older man rubbing the space of his left forearm where the numbers 214782 were branded into his skin. He was scared, perhaps even terrified. And for a very good reason. He'd been through something of this sort once before and the younger man knew he was unwilling to go through it again.

Bringing himself back into the present, Charles swallowed, licked his lips and returned his gaze to Emma Frost. He took a deep breath and repeated, unable to keep the surprise out of his tone, "The Mutant Registration Act? Do you know what this is exactly?"

"It's exactly like it sounds," Emma responded. Her arms were now crossed as well.

The woman who was usually the definition of cool, calm and collected looked nervous.

"The government is registering mutants. They want to know where they're living and what they're doing, who they're living with and what their jobs are. They want to know everything about them." She glanced quickly at Erik, her maliciousness not going unnoticed as she added, "They want to know _all_ of our _identities._"

It was at these words that Charles knew Erik had been right all along and as he thought this the other's words rang through his mind, words he'd hoped and prayed had been the foolish mutterings of the older man's post-traumatic stress: _Identification, that's how it starts._ And it was starting it was starting all over again, only this time it was global.

"Emma," the shaky voice coming from the corner of the room was one that Charles didn't recognize until he saw Erik's face. "Is there any way you can get into the government's records to get us more information about this?"

The woman shrugged. "Perhaps."

"Good," was the metal-bender's only response. He took a shuddering breath as he said softly, "Do you know when this 'act' is going to be put into effect?"

"The start of next year," she responded. "It sounds rather far away, but…it is March now…and really…1964 isn't that far off."

She left without saying anything more, leaving the two men in stunned silence.

The moment she was gone, Erik collapsed into the chair next to Charles' bed, put his head in his trembling hands and began muttering to himself in a mixture of German and Polish.

"I told you Charles," he said softly, his shaking just as much as his fingers were. He looked up. His expression was one of pure desperation and it was only made worse when he began to speak, his voice matching his look, "Identification…that's how it starts. It ends with being rounded up, experimented on, eliminated."

He stood and began to pace the room, trying to calm himself down. "I will _not_ let this happen a second time. I will_ not_. I'm going to protect you, Charles. I swore to protect you and everyone else in the mansion. If this threatens you, I will do anything in my power to stop it."

The telepath was at a loss. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. This was clearly not what he had expected. He'd known after that day at the beach that Erik had been right and humans were resentful towards them, but he had not thought they were facing a mass genocide akin to the one that happened barely twenty years previously.

"Erik," he said softly, his voice shaking, though not as badly as the metal-bender's, "there may be nothing you can do."

At this, the older man stopped pacing. His hands behind his back clenched into fists and he said through gritted teeth, "Don't say that."

Charles sighed, closing his eyes, willing the right words to come to him as he began to speak, "I'm only saying that there is a chance that you will unable to do –"

"Charles no." It was Erik's deadly clam voice, more than anything else that stopped the telepath midsentence. "I have been through this once before and I am _not_ going to go through it a second time. I am not going to allow _you_ or anyone else to go through it a first time. I could not live with myself if I allowed that to happen." He sighed and returned to the chair by the younger man's side. "I told you once that I would do whatever it took to protect you and I meant it. If I have to end lives to keep you safe I will."


	8. Things To Do

Erik stayed by Charles's side for the rest of the day and well into the late evening before complying with Charles' pleas to return to the mansion and make sure that it was still standing. Emma, who had grown bored of sitting in the sterile room, watching Erik and Charles pass each other affectionate and concerned glances for over eight hours, welcomed the change of scenery when Erik motioned for her to proceed out of the room first. Before leaving himself, Erik went to the bedside and brushed back the stray pieces of hair that had fallen over the telepath's eyes.

"I'll be back first thing in the morning. Try not to cause too much trouble before then." A small laugh made its way from the back of his throat to which Charles nodded weakly and watched as Erik left the room with a lingering gaze. Though he knew that Charles was in capable hands, Erik could not keep his promise of protecting him while he was back at the mansion. He knew that Charles could see behind the superficial laughter that had come from the past eight hours of trying to remain calm. There was no way that he would let anything like what he had experienced all those years ago happen to Charles or Raven, or the boys. There had to be a way to stop it, and if there wasn't, he would make one.

Rounding the corner, he found Emma waiting patiently in a chair, the disinterested expression on her face soon replaced by a smirk.

"Hope you haven't been waiting too long." Erik stated sarcastically. The blonde woman remained seated, but continued to keep her smirk.

"You know, it took me a while before I could figure out why you left, but I had my suspicions. You're a lot easier to read without the helmet." Erik looked back at her before grabbing her arm and half-dragging her out of the hospital.

"What is it that you really want, Emma?" He said, casting her arm out of his tight grasp. "You said you want to help, but we both know that's only half the reason. I think I know you well enough to know there's always a hidden agenda. So why are you here?"

The female telepath looked squarely back at Erik, she wasn't going to budge easily, he knew that was for sure. "Maybe I've just had a change of heart, Erik. People can change. I'm sure you know that better than anyone else." She was right. He did know that people could change. But he also knew that people could lie, and Emma was doing a very good job of it.

"You're right: people _can_ change. But _you_ can't." His eyes became hard and cold. He pushed his way past her and headed towards the car. She quickly followed behind him and they left for the mansion. The car ride was eerily silent. Once back on the grounds and inside the warmth of the house, Erik went to the study and locked the door. He stood in the doorway, taking in the room. A twinge of resentment swelled inside Erik's core. Charles had grown up in an environment that had catered to his every whim. Yes, he had had his share of pain, but he always had someone there for him; something to come back to. Years of being out on his own, Erik knew that it wasn't his fault that everything had been ripped away from him. But what about Charles and Raven, or the boys? What would happen to them once this Act took effect and they were forced out into the open?

They couldn't all hide out forever. Erik once knew people who had tried to hide from the Gestapo—it never ended well once they were caught. He suppressed a shudder and shut his eyes as if it would clear the memory from his mind. _No. _He thought indignantly. He was not going to allow anything like what he had lived through to happen again. He was going to get to the root of the problem, and he had to do it fast. Sitting down in the armchair, he went over plans in his head of how he was going to proceed with stopping the government.

Suddenly, a soft knock interrupted his thought process. From the other side, an even softer voice called out to him, "Erik, it's Raven. I need to talk to you." Erik merely looked at the door before unlocking it from his seat. Slowly the door opened to the shapeshifter, her natural blue and fiery hair making its way towards Erik.

"Raven," he said somewhat surprised, "What's wrong?" She took her time answering, fiddling with the arm of the chair across from him, shifting her eyes around the room as if it was her first time setting foot inside. Whatever she had to say, Erik knew that it wouldn't be easy for her to admit seeing as Raven was not shy about anything.

"Raven?" He softened his voice and tried to catch her flitting glances. "What 's wrong?"

She bowed her head and drew in a quick breath before slowly saying, "Emma—she told us what—what the government was planning." She avoided Erik's staring once more. "I know that we've got some trust issues with her, but what if she's right? What if the government is planning to elimi—" She stopped herself mid-sentence realizing what she was about to say. Erik barely even blinked. Raven began to stammer an apology about telling him that Emma told her and the others, about bringing up something that she really shouldn't have brought up…through all this he remained silent.

"Please say something." She asked quietly. Instead, he stood from his own seat and strode to the hall and into the dining room. There the others were already gathered, talking animatedly about the news that had been broken to them. Once Erik stepped into the room, Raven in tow, no one dared to say a word. In the corner of the room, Emma stood by observing the chaos she created.

Sean was the first to speak up. "Is it true?" Erik locked eyes on the young mutant and nodded.

"Why don't we ask our resident expert now to fill us in on the details?" He said shifted the now-glare towards Emma.

"The Mutant Registration Act will go into effect sometime early next year, but there's a high chance that it will be moved up to later this year. The Act will tell the government where every mutant in the United States is living, working, children, family, everything." She stopped to look around the table of unmoving faces. Erik folded his arms across his chest once more as he had done earlier that morning. The markings of his former self began to tingle and grow warm under his shirt.

"So what are we supposed to do, just let this happen?" Alex shouted above the deafening silence. "What about the school? Everything that the professor has worked for already…" Erik sent him a glare to calm down. But how could he tell others to be calm when he himself was ready to boil over?

"Thank you Emma, but I think that we should wait until Charles gets back to really discuss this." He already had a plan of action in mind, but he needed to know that Charles would be alright (as alright as he could be at present) before he acted upon it.

"Are we just going to sit back and do nothing then?" This time it was Hank who spoke. He had the most reason to be fearful of the Act if it came into effect. There was nothing that Hank loved more than science, and being registered as a mutant would ruin his credibility, something that would probably kill him. Again Erik nodded. There was nothing left to say.

"Erik's right, Hank," Raven said. Her powerful voice wavering as he flinched by being addressed by her. "There's nothing that we can do right now, so we just need to wait for Charles to come back and he'll know what to do about it."

"In his condition, are you serious? Do you really think that he'd be able to find out what's going on after being released from the hospital?" Raven lowered her eyes, raising a violent reaction from Azazel who drew his knife from its scabbard ready to attack Hank.

"That's enough!" Erik moved towards the head of the table, where Charles would normally sit. "There's nothing that can be done as of now. Charles is coming home tomorrow morning, so I suggest we don't dwell on this while he's recovering." No one wanted to cross the metal-bender at the moment, so one by one they left the dining room finally leaving Erik alone.

Pushing back his left sleeve, he traced over the numbers, feeling the pain that the ink carried through his skin. He knew what he had to do now, but it would take some time to piece it all together. And it would hurt…more than he would ever be able to imagine.


	9. Within My Power

Charles' one night in the hospital was one of the worst. Memories of the nights he'd spent there as a child after being beaten nearly to death by his stepfather as well as the interminable ones that had followed his spinal injury, flooded his mind. Try as he might to think of something other than that, he found he could not. The memories were just too strong and he was up until dawn, reliving things he'd thought he'd long since buried.

He finally did fall asleep only a few hours before Erik and Raven came to pick him up. The older man had his wheelchair and managed to transfer him from the hospital bed to said chair, without irritating the stitches that were safely beneath the white gauze bandage wrapped around his middle.

The first couple of minutes of the drive back home were layered with a tense silence. At first, Charles said nothing, sure that either Raven or Erik would explain why they were so anxious before he could ask. However, when the silence lingered on, remaining unbroken it became more and more apparent his assumptions were incorrect. He sighed and ran his fingers over his tired features, trying not to trace the dark circles that had begun to fade, but with this latest incident had resurfaced.

"What's going on?" he finally asked, unable to handle the tension any longer.

A part of him expected an immediate answer. In fact a rather large part of him was sure that Erik and Raven were going to fight over who got to speak first, but this was not the case. If anything air in the car became thicker and the two mutants in the front seats exchanged glances. They weren't exactly worried ones. In fact, they both looked rather frustrated. Though if it was with each other or something else entirely, the telepath was unsure.

Unhappy with being kept in the dark, he added, "Are you going to tell me what's the matter or do I have to read your minds?"

He was sure this would elicit some sort of sound out of one if not the both of them, but he was sorely mistaken. Instead, Erik's fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white; Raven, who had shifted back into her blue form, was fidgeting apprehensively and staring out the window, her hands tucked under her thighs.

Sighing, he slowly began to move his fingers to his temple when Raven finally burst out, "Emma told us about the Mutant Registration Act."

If the air in the car had been thick before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. Charles was sure that if he cupped his hands in front of him, he'd not only be able to feel the weight of the air in his hands, but see his reflection in it as well. Not wanting to look like a complete idiot, he instead locked eyes with Erik in the rearview mirror. Something about the metal-bender's sea-storm gaze told him there was more to this than the chaos he was going to have to deal with when they arrived back at the mansion.

"And?" the telepath said tentatively, tearing his gaze from the other man's.

"And…Hank thinks you should find more mutants so more of us will be safe when this Act is put into effect," she added, her fidgeting becoming more and more noticeable as she continued speaking.

"But I don't think you should," Erik said, speaking up for the first time since he'd seen him that day. His words came through gritted teeth. They were almost a growl and Charles could hear the anger behind them. "You've just been released from the hospital after going through surgery on your abdomen. You nearly died. I am not going to allow you to use a machine that will only sap your strength even more after what has just happened."

"I see Erik's point," his sister interjected before the metal-bender could say anything more. "However, at the same time I also see Hank's. After speaking with Emma, I'm not entirely sure when they're going to pass this officially and I think that the sooner you use Cerebro to find more mutants and bring them here, the better. They need a save place, Charles. I don't want to have to witness what Erik has been talking about for the past twenty-four hours."

The metal-bender began speaking again, saying something about how Charles was too ill, too exhausted to use something that could drain him so terribly right after what had happened, but for the first time in their relationship, the telepath wasn't listening to him. In fact, his words dribbled out into background noise. The only thing he heard was Raven's voice, echoing in his head over and over again.

_I don't want to witness what Erik has been talking about for the past twenty-four hours…_

It was this coupled with the look of utter fear that she was trying so desperately to hide that had the telepath making up his mind instantly. He knew he would be – in a sense – breaking his promise to Erik to take better care of himself, but this was a price he had to pay to keep the other mutants out there safe. If his health was the cost, it was a very small price to pay for all of the lives they would, if Erik's paranoid suspicions were correct, inevitably, be saving.

"I agree with Hank," he said, obviously interrupting something that his friend had been saying only moments before. There was another tense silence in the car, one that, during which, Erik stared into the rearview mirror for a full minute, forgetting he had a road to pay attention to, so he could stare at the telepath in utter disbelief.

"Now," the younger man added, "before you can get angry with me, allow me to explain why I am doing this: when I told you that I had seen what Shaw did to you, _felt_ your agony, I was not lying. I quite literally did see what that man did to you and I felt the pain you endured as a child simply because you were different. You told me yesterday that you would do anything in your power to keep this from happening, and is this not within your power?"

The metal-bender was silent.

"My point precisely. Now. When we get home, I am going to go straight to Cerebro and the both of us are going go and get as many mutant children as we can bring back in this van. I _refuse_ to allow any innocent child to go through what you did, Erik. It will not happen."

This time the silence in the van was heavy. There was tension, but there was also, fear, sadness and something that Charles could possibly call gratitude. Though the older man did not respond with words, his voice rang through the telepath's head with only two words.

_Thank you._


	10. Tortuous Behavior

Once they arrived back at the mansion, Raven wasted no time in scurrying off to find Hank and tell him of Charles's decision. Erik helped Charles out and into the house, neither of them speaking, but somehow perfectly in sync with the other. As Hank appeared in the front hall ready to escort Charles and Erik back to the Cerebro chamber, Erik could not help but feel that it was still too soon. He had spent the previous night in a state between sleeping and waking, worrying over what would happen if the Act was in fact passed, and what that would mean for Charles and himself, as well as others of their kind.

_Identification…collection…experimentation…elimination. _It would be no different this time. He walked rigidly alongside Charles and Hank as they made their way to Cerebro. It was too soon, but it needed to be done. Charles wanted to, and he had his reasons; but those reasons wouldn't be enough if he ended up in the hospital again from overuse. Erik stifled a shudder as Charles looked up at him, his sapphire eyes apologetic but determined.

Entering the chamber, Hank made all the necessary preparations as Charles readied himself—really more Erik than himself—for the ordeal.

"Everything will be fine, Erik," he said softly as he placed the helmet on top of his head. "We are going to find as many as we can, and try to stop whatever is being planned before it's already too late." Erik said nothing, in fear that he would say something that he would soon later regret, but there was no hiding anything from the telepath. _I know you don't want me to do this, but it's the only way._

"I know that." Erik hoarsely whispered. _And I'm grateful for you doing this…I just don't want this and finding these kids to be the last thing you do._, The telepath only nodded and looked to Hank once the young doctor had signaled that he was finished and Cerebro was ready.

"Don't worry," Charles replied finally before starting the machine. "It won't be." Erik gave one last look then turned and placed himself next to Hank. He watched as the coordinates for potential mutants to save began to type out as fast as Charles could find them. Every so often he would look back at the telepath, tell himself that it would all be alright. They would go and find whoever they could, protect as many as they could, and it would all be fine in the end. Although Erik knew deep in his heart that it wouldn't—they would be hiding, living out their lives in constant fear, many of whom already did. But it was the only way.

It was nearly an hour and a half later that Charles finally stopped. Cerebro was shut off and Erik then quickly made his way over to Charles's side. The younger man had his eyes closed, his head resting on a fist, which he had a hard time keeping steady as it was. Erik removed the helmet and knelt down beside him. There he could see faint lines already starting to appear, creases where smooth skin should be for a man of Charles's age. But in those lines Erik also saw that they had come from years of work to get where they were at that moment. Maybe they were not in the precise situation that was desired once upon a time, but it was close.

"Charles?" Erik said softly. The telepath slowly opened his eyes and smiled at the older man in front of him. "How do you feel?" As an afterthought he added, _Beside being exhausted to the point where you should admit that I was right for not wanting you to do this even though it was necessary? _

Charles gave a small smile before replying, "Yes, Erik, you were right, and it was necessary." The metal-bender rolled his eyes at the obvious tilt of sarcasm. "And yes, I do feel rather tired. But I think that I've done just about all I can for the time being." With that, Erik had to agree. Pushing Charles away from the helmet, they made their way from the chamber to the bedroom. Erik lifted the half-asleep man into bed and pulled the covers around him.

_I don't know why you torture yourself like this, Charles…but thank you. _He strode over to the door, and before leaving the telepath to a well-deserved nap, a response came that made Erik stop in his tracks.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing." It came out in a mumbled slur, but Erik could understand every word. Why did he torture himself in ways that would tear at someone's soul before breaking completely? The answer was not important at the time, and Erik then left the room back towards the Cerebro chamber.

There in the hallway, the voices of the others echoed from the dining room. Shouts of approval and disagreement carried through the air. He knew he should not be getting involved once more, but it probably had something to do with the government and Charles over-working himself again. He stopped at the door just in time to hear Raven speak up over everyone else.

"You know she's right, you guys. How many times have we heard Erik already talking about how the whole—process—works?" There was a silence which confirmed the question. "A million? Maybe two? Yeah, that's what I thought. If we're going to do something about it then we have to get way more than just us."

"No one's arguing with you on that, Raven…" The voice belonged to Alex, who seemed to be speaking with the shapeshifter again. Or maybe it was just because no one else would. "We just don't want to see anyone get hurt, especially the professor."

"Then why are you fighting what he's trying to do? He has to use Cerebro, otherwise the chances of us finding other mutants to keep safe and help are pretty slim to none." There was another beat of silence. She had won. As Erik listened by the door, he couldn't help but feel a little proud of Raven. She had certainly grown since the first time he had met her—they all had.

"Just in case you're all wondering," Erik said stepping into the dining room. He surveyed the faces of those at the table. There were looks of determination, indifference, confusion, surprise, and anger. "Charles already used Cerebro and we have the coordinates for about fifty other mutants within the area that we can get to in time for whatever it is that's going to happen."

Raven stuck her tongue out at Alex then, and he rolled his eyes. They were definitely on speaking terms again. "And if anyone is truly concerned, Charles is resting now and may be for a while. So try to keep it down." His last words came out in a sort of low growl to get his point across, which it did. When he turned to leave, Raven stood up from her place and jogged over to join Erik at the door.

"I going to help you and Charles find the other mutants." It was not a question or a request, but a pointed fact. Erik looked towards the others back at the table, then grabbed Raven by her bicep and left the room.

Once they were far enough away from the door, he let go and sais, "You know, Raven, as much as I would love for you to come along with us, no." But that wouldn't stop her. The metal-bender heading for the direction of the Cerebro chamber, Raven on his heels whispering harshly.

"And why not? Don't you think that some people might be a little freaked out by two men, who just happen to also be mutants, coming up to them and asking them to come and be safe in a mansion in the remote area of Westchester?"

"It worked well the last time, if you've forgotten." He turned the corner and she followed. Suddenly, he felt very sorry for Charles as he was growing up. If Raven had acted as stubborn as she was acting at that moment, it was no wonder Charles tried so hard to seek refuge from her thoughts.

"C'mon, you know you're going to need extra help, and I can help." It was true. The more that Erik thought about it, the more he realized that she was right. They would need extra help, with Charles or just with trying to convince others that the Act was the truth, and that there were really mutants out there somewhere. They were stopped outside of the chamber, Raven waiting for acceptance of her proposition.

"Fine," he sighed in defeat. Now instead of feeling sorry for Charles, Erik felt empathetic. "You can come with us." Raven's eyes lit up like a child's before flinging herself onto Erik and enveloping him in a hug. Now the regret started to creep in.

"You can come, on a few conditions!" The hugging stopped and the shape-shifter backed away slowly. She looked at him through narrow eyes.

"What conditions?" Erik smirked and gave a small chuckle.

"What, you didn't think that I—we—would let you come without conditions, now did you?"

"Of course not." It was a lie. _Oh how the mighty have fallen, _Erik thought with a laugh. "But _you_ didn't answer _my_ question: what conditions?"

The metal-bender took a moment and paused as if he was making the conditions up on the spot. There was always a catch, but this time he was glad that he got to create them for a change. "Condition one: I know you don't really want to, but that's too bad; you're going to have to shift into your blonde form until asked to change, or when it's just Charles and I." She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not a child, Erik, I think I know when I should be myself." The metal-bender shrugged. "What's next?"

"Condition number two: please at least try not to give any valuable information away too soon." Another nod came from the teen. "And condition number three…you need to speak with Hank." At this, Raven went slack jawed and began to furiously shake her head.

"No, no, I can—I can't do that. He hates me, Erik. He _really_ hates me." She tried to keep the tears away from her eyes, but it was too powerful and a few escaped on their own.

With his voice turning softer, Erik said, "I know that it's going to be hard, but you have to agree to all of the conditions if you really want to help us." She shook her head again and a few more tears began to stream down her azure face. "If it would make you feel better, I'll be in the room with you. But you two need to figure out what the hell is happening. And I know that it's just not what happened in Cuba."

Raven turned her gaze away and steadied her breathing. "You're going to come with me, then?" Erik nodded and she returned the gesture. "Okay then, I agree." The two then made their way into the chamber—Erik in front, Raven trailing behind him in trepidation.

Hank was still attending to some readings from earlier when the pair came in. "Ah, Erik, glad you're here. I was wondering if sometime later we could try to work on adjusting th—" The young doctor stopped abruptly when he saw Raven peeking out from behind the metal-bender. Suddenly his tone turned cold. "What is _she_ doing here?"

Erik moved to the side fully exposing Raven to Hank's view. "Well, _I_ came for the coordinates to the other mutants. You know, just to look over the ones that are closest to us. But Raven is here because she needs to talk to you. Isn't that right, Raven?"

There was a small "yes" that came from her mouth, causing Hank to cringe and take a step back. Raven took the movement for exactly what it meant and turned to Erik. "You know what? This is ridiculous. He obviously doesn't want to talk to me, so why don't you just get the coordinates and we can go? I don't want to go with you guys anymore." Raven then turned on her heel and left the room, fighting back tears along with way.

Erik looked back at the young scientist who began to fiddle with his clipboard. There was a steely glare in the metal-bender's eyes as he said, "I do hope that you're happy Hank. All she wanted to do was talk to you about why you hate her so much now. Is that so much to ask from you?" He walked over to where the coordinates were and ripped the sheet away.

As he headed for the door, Hank stopped him. "You don't know how much it hurts." Erik turned and matched the young man's stare.

"Yes I do. But you don't know how much it hurts Raven more." He left Hank hoping that the young mutant would realize his mistakes. Thinking of this, Erik headed to the study and locked the door behind him. He sat on the couch with the sheet of coordinates, but his mind was far from trying to determine which mutants were close enough that it would not be a hassle to locate them.

_I don't know why you torture yourself like this..._

The sky was bright and the trees in the front of the house were beginning to bud. March was drawing to a close, and soon the year would pass by faster than anyone would like. Staring once more at the coordinated he held, Erik said quietly to himself, "Because it's one of the few things that I can control."


	11. Cannot Lose You

Ever since he was a child, Charles had been weaker, more vulnerable to disease, than other children. This was because he was abused by his stepfather and neglected by his drunken mother. He never did have enough nourishment, he was never taken to the doctor and the only reason he had proper clothing was because his mother insisted they keep up their appearance. Once when he had complained to one of his friends how constantly hungry he was, she'd slapped him and told him that he was a disappointment and he was ruining the Xavier name. Even now, he didn't understand why that had mattered so much to her when her last name was now Marko. Though there was no provocation he could recall, it was of this that the telepath was thinking of when he awoke from his nap later in the day.

For a moment, he was too scared to move. He forgot where he was. He forgot the time, the place, the age. He forgot he was now twenty-four and his stepfather was long since dead. He'd died in a fire when the telepath was eighteen and he hadn't seen his stepbrother, who had run away before the firemen arrived on the scene, since.

Remembering this, he calmed down and drew a weak hand over his tired, sweaty face. It was astonishing to think that even after all these years the things his stepfather had done to him, still tormented him almost daily. He was not going to lie to himself and say he hadn't tried to forget, tried to use his own powers on himself and erase his own mind because he had. It had been a foolish gesture he now realized, but that did not stop him from wishing it had worked.

This thought in mind, he closed his eyes briefly, flames dancing on his retinas.

His lids snapped open almost immediately. He hadn't thought of the fire in ages and now, as he closed his eyes once more – slowly this time – the images of that day, of the fire came to his mind almost too easily.

_The orange flames lapped at his door. He only knew this because his room was rapidly filling with smoke and tendrils of the fire kept darting under the small crack between the wood and the carpet – as though they were taking a look at the room they were about to invade – before quickly retracting back into the hall._

_ He couldn't leave his room because of this and it was for this reason that Charles began to panic. He couldn't get to Raven. He couldn't warn her of what was happening. He couldn't stop her from being burned alive. He wasn't worried about himself. He had a window in his room he could easily break open and jump out of if need be. He also was not worried about his mother. She was gone and had been for the past week. His stepbrother and stepfather had, no doubt, already left the house. So it was only him and Raven, just the two of them that needed to be rescued._

_ The young boy was starting to prepare himself to open the door and throw himself through the flames into the hall when he remembered he was a telepath. If he hadn't been so frightened at that moment, he might have laughed at the absurdity of his previous anxiety. However, seeing as this was not the case, he quickly pressed his fingers to his temple and tried to locate his sister._

Raven! _He shouted the moment he discovered her to be still asleep in bed. _Raven! Wake up now! The house is on fire! You _must_ get out! You must!

_She awoke instantly and he felt only slightly guilty for instilling such fear in her. He knew if he hadn't, she would still be sleeping and there was a possibility that she would die. He couldn't take that risk. Her fear was a small price to pay in exchange for his younger sister to keep on living._

_ Charles half expected her to ask him what he was going to do, how he planned to get out of the house, but she didn't and for this he was grateful. He kept his mind connected to hers until she was safely outside. Thankfully, her door was not blocked by flames as his was. She'd had a free shot to safety._

_ Bringing himself back into reality, the telepath let out a sigh of relief and glanced around his room, trying to find something he could throw through the window. He knew he had to find it soon or he was going to suffocate. Already it was becoming difficult to breathe and he seemed to be unable to cough enough to remove all of the smoke that was now filling his lungs_

_ Five minutes passed. He still didn't know what to do. Everything around him seemed inadequate. Nothing seemed as though it would be big enough or strong enough to break the class and even if it was he was sure he couldn't lift it. _

_ Ten minutes. Still nothing. Maybe the smoke was clogging his brain._

_ Fifteen minutes. Black dots were beginning to cloud his vision. He could hardly see through the smoke. He knew the door was slowly being burned through. He had to get out of here soon or he was going to die._

_ It was at this moment he saw the large wooden chair next to his desk. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of this earlier. Perhaps he'd been panicking far too much to use any sort of logic. Either way, it didn't really matter now. What did matter was he lifted the chair and lodged it through the window before he died from smoke inhalation._

_ The telepath curled his fingers around the seat of the chair and tried to lift it, but all of the smoke in his lungs had weakened him and he couldn't even get it an inch off the ground before he dropped it once more. He shook his head and grit his teeth, telling himself he had to lift this, he had to because otherwise he was going to die and if he died Raven would be alone. She would have to deal with Cain and Father alone. _

_ And he could not allow that to happen._

_ He tried again, lifting the chair slightly higher this time, but still dropping it._

_ "No," he gasped out, his voice ragged and weak. "No…please…no…"_

_ He tried one last time, having every intention of giving up if he was unable to lift it this time. However, it was almost as though some unknown power knew this and for whatever reason the chair was light now. In fact, later he would hardly remember lifting it. He would only remember throwing it through the window, nearly passing out from the exertion of doing so before he kicked away the jagged pieces of glass still attached to the window sill. He was on the second floor and there was a good twenty feet between him and the ground, though a fractured ankle and a few broken ribs were a small price for his life. _

_ This thought in mind, he took a deep calming breath of fresh outside air before he launched himself from the window sill to the ground below._

_ As predicted, he screeched in pain feeling the small bones in his ankle split. He groaned in pain as his torso slammed into the ground and cracking nearly all of his ribs on his right side. He was in pain, he was gasping for breath, he was coughing and his house was going up in flames, but he was alive._

_ He was alive._

_ Within moments, Raven and a group of paramedics were at his side and as the medical officials began assessing the damage done to his body and Raven began fussing over him, asking him if he was alright, a sharp pain flashed through his mind. He gasped in pain, but the moment he realized what it was he began to laugh, smiling, happier than he could ever remember being in his life. _

_ "Charles!" his sister gasped out, shaking his shoulders lightly. "Charles! What's wrong with you? You've lost your mind! Why in the world are you laughing? You're half dead for God's sake! You just jumped out a window!"_

_ However, he didn't reply to a word of this, he simply shook his head, still grinning like a fool as he grabbed Raven's sleeve, pulled her ear to his mouth and whispered two words he'd been sure he would never utter._

_ "We're free."_

"Charles?"

The telepath opened his eyes, not noticing he had fallen asleep once more, until that moment. He rubbed his eyes, grimacing as he pushed himself into an awkward sitting position before he glanced towards the door, seeing Erik standing in the doorway. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised to see the metal-bender there, but for some reason he was. Perhaps he was uncomfortable with the older man seeing him so distraught this ear – well it wasn't exactly morning anymore. It was closer to evening now.

Running a trembling hand through his hair, damp with his own sweat, he mumbled, sounding as exhausted as he felt, "Yes?"

"Are you alright?" the metal-bender asked. He was striding into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking the telepath's head in his hands, rubbing his cheek with his thumb. When the younger man leaned his head against his palms, grateful for some way to rest, the other winced at the weakness displayed by the telepath.

"You need more rest," he said softly, still cradling Charles' head in his hands. He reached up to brush a few stray hairs from the younger man's eyes. He sighed, watching as the telepath struggled to draw breath. "I knew using Cerebro wasn't a good idea."

"It was a lovely idea," the other retorted, though without sounding malicious. "Hank and Raven were right. If this Act is going to be passed, we need more of us. We need to protect as many mutants as we can."

He'd closed his eyes once more. He was falling asleep sitting up with his head in his lover's hands. The thought made him smile weakly.

"Not at the cost of your life or your health. Nothing is worth that." Erik was clearly ignoring his smile. He was far too concerned.

Charles' eyes fluttered open and he stared into the metal-bender's sea-storm ones intently before he whispered, "Would you really want to watch millions of innocents being hurt again when you knew you could stop that? Wouldn't you rather have a house full of those you'd saved even if I were not here to help you manage them if you knew you'd spared them from that pain?"

It was a ridiculous question to ask, the telepath knew. He also knew, in some ways, it was an unfair question, but it was also one that Erik had to consider. There was a possibility that between using Cerebro, going out and finding more mutants and starting his school, he would die. It was a possibility he'd been keeping to himself for weeks now. It was only now that this thought was becoming a reality that he decided to iterate it. If he was going to die, he had to prepare Erik for it.

The silence between them lasted longer than was comfortable and when Charles, who had closed his eyes again, opened them this time, he was looking into the face of a man who was being torn apart. There were tears in Erik's eyes and an expression that he hadn't seen for weeks now, one he'd hoped never to see again, but knew now there were some things in life you could only ever wish for.

"I will not lose you," the metal-bender whispered, shaking the telepath's head gently. "I _cannot_ lose you. Not again."

It was after this that the younger man laid his head in the older man's lap. He entwined his fingers with the other's and sighed softly, far more comfortable than he had been moments before with his head on his pillow.

As he fell asleep once more, he mumbled, "We're going to start finding more mutants tomorrow, yes?"

He never heard Erik's reply of, "Only if you are well."


	12. On the Road Again

The rest of the night was spent together. No interruptions or arguments from the others, no talk of elimination or death, just the two of them planning out the next day few days; mapping out routes and how many they could find, the chances of any of them believing what they had to say...it wasn't until Charles had fallen asleep once again that Erik felt relaxed enough himself to slip away into dreamland.

* * *

><p>The early morning sun was the one to wake Erik, but if the curtains had been able to shield the light from the room, then the shouts of two distinct female voices would have. The metal-bender climbed out of bed and read the small clock on the bedside table. It was almost six in the morning, but being the early riser that he was, it did not surprise him that he was already fully alert. What did surprise him however, was the source of the shouting. Turning the corner, he found Emma and Raven locked in an intense contest of who could wake the entire mansion up first.<p>

"What in God's name is going on here?" Erik shouted causing the two women to jump from the shock. Emma was the first to recover.

"I was just explaining to Raven how I should also be allowed to accompany you and Charles on your little…excursion—"

"And I was just telling Emma how no one wants her to come." Raven interrupted.

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. It was too early for any of this, but it needed to be solved otherwise he would make for a very unpleasant travel partner. He thought for a moment about the proposition. If Emma came with them, then that would leave the boys alone in the house, but spare them from whatever she was capable of. She may have been there to help, but no one really trusted her, especially Erik. On the other hand, if she came with them, Raven wouldn't be the only girl, but there wasn't a doubt that they would fight. The fighting he could handle. It was if she was left alone with the others that he and Charles were worried about.

"Oh don't act like you don't already know what you want to do, sugar." She gave a smug smile then turned to head upstairs. "I'll go get my things." Raven gaped at Erik, but was cut off from saying anything.

"It would give us a better advantage, and besides, we can't really trust her here with the others just in case. At least with us we can keep an eye on what she does." He turned away from her and added under his breath, "Even if it does mean two more people and no chance of a quiet trip." He then turned back towards her and headed for the bedroom to wake Charles. "Go get ready, we leave in an hour." He threw over his shoulder. There was an audible huff from Raven, then the sound of feet on hardwood floor up the stairs.

When he returned to the bedroom, Erik was again surprised to find Charles awake and ready to leave. "You're up…" It came out as more of a question than a statement of fact.

"And ready," was the reply. Erik looked over to the bed where a small bag was packed alongside the list of coordinates. If there was a way that he could be any more amazed and enamored with Charles, then Erik had already found it. He walked around to the telepath and looked him squarely in the eyes.

"Are you sure you want to go today? Because if you're not fe—"

"I'm certain." Charles interrupted, meeting Erik's eyes with the same intensity. "If we don't start on it now while we still can, there may not be much time left." He was right. Erik nodded and straightened up, taking the handles of the wheelchair and bringing Charles to the dining room.

"Well then," he started as he headed towards the kitchen. He began to pull out ingredients for breakfast, plates, cups, and silverware. "We better eat something before we leave. It's going to be a _long day."_

* * *

><p>The first stop was literally no more than ten miles away from the mansion. Even Charles had to admit that he was a bit surprised at how close they were to other mutants. The house was simple; two stories, a swing in the yard surrounded by a white fence, complete with a happy family. As the group exited their van, Erik surveyed the picturesque scene in before him. There was a moment one upon a time that he had wished for a life like this—free of emotional scars and the pain that he had to carry for most of his life—but then would he have ever met Charles? Would they be standing outside of a house prepared to convince the family that lived inside that they were there to protect their child from an "attack" on mutant-kind? Erik stalled a few minutes more, asking himself questions that he already knew the answers to.<p>

A gentle nudge broke his focus. He looked down to find Charles, a concerned look framing his face. "_Are you sure you want to go today?" _Charles replayed for the metal-bender. Erik rolled his eyes and scoffed a little.

"Very funny, Charles." He looked up again and started to head for the door behind Emma and Raven.

"I wasn't trying to be funny, but 'to each his own.'" Charles laughed a little catching Erik off guard. They made it up to the door, hesitating before ringing the bell.

_ I know this is different from the first time—more personal—but the need is greater, now. We'll be helping a lot of people. _

_I know,_ Erik replied. _I'm ready for it. _He could feel Charles raise an eyebrow.

_"Are you sure—"_

_ I'm certain. _Erik replied, smirking at his choice of words. Reaching around Raven, he pushed the doorbell in. The sound of chimes could be heard from the front, and they all waited with anticipation—except for maybe Emma, who looked rather impatient. _She practically forced herself to come along, _Erik thought to himself. _Not our problem if she got a stick up her ass all day, everyday._

The door opened to a woman in about her mid-twenties, with curly black hair and amber eyes. At once, Erik put on his best polite face while the others moved around so Charles could be in the front.

"Oh, hello! Can I help you all?" Her voice was low but warm. Charles immediately introduced the group and in no time they were invited inside. Erik was the last to go in. The woman pointed them towards the couch and then offered them drinks. After a few minutes of small talk, the conversation turned to the reason that they had come to visit in the first place.

"Mrs. Harris," Charles said gently, "I understand that you mentioned your son having some—special qualities. Could you please explain some more to us?" Mrs. Harris turned the glass of lemonade in her hand around several times before answering.

"You said you were a professor of genetics, right? That what you specialize in is genetic mutations?" Charles nodded for her to go on. Erik remained silent, as well as the girls, waiting for her answer.

"It started a few months ago. He said he started feeling pains in his legs and arms. My husband and I just thought it was growing pains so we didn't think much of it. Then he had horrible stomach aches and began to wake up in the middle of the night. We took him to the doctor, but he said that nothing was wrong." She paused and Erik could see tears start to well in her eyes. There was genuine love and concern for her son there; something that Erik hadn't seen in a long time.

"Then I found him about three weeks ago. We kept him home from school that day because the pain was so bad. I called him down for lunch but he didn't come so I went to check on him and…his arm was over three feet long. I didn't know what to do, so I took him to the hospital, but by the time we got there his arm was back to normal, and they sent us back." The tears began to flow freely now and Raven handed her a napkin.

"Professor Xavier," she sniffled a little, "Do you think you can help him?" Erik looked between Mrs. Harris and Charles. The latter looked as if he were about to break down as well. But in a solid voice he said, "Of course. Could we meet him?" Mrs. Harris nodded and rose from her chair. She called down her son, a tall, lanky boy of about fourteen. Instantly, Erik felt his stomach tighten as the shaggy-haired boy came into the living room. While Charles asked him and his mother some more questions, Erik's mind left him as he thought about where he was at fourteen.

When the group left, after telling Tyler and his mother that they would be back in a few days, Erik was the first one out of the house and into the van. No one questioned why, but it was clear to Charles that he should leave the matter alone until later. 

* * *

><p>They spent the whole day searching for mutants; the task more time-consuming and tiresome than the first time, but with better prospects. Erik was amazed by the number of mutants that surrounded Westchester, and even more amazed at how easily that they agreed to come back to the mansion. He knew that Charles had very little to do with in persuading the parents via mind-control to allow their children to come with them, as most wanted their children to be safe from harm, but it still surprised the metal-bender just how charismatic Charles was, even in his condition. Raven also proved be of some help, making the potential recruits feel more at ease by having a woman there instead of two men who claim that they're trying to help. Even Emma was civil enough to convince others to come.<p>

There were only two more stops before they headed back to Westchester. They were several hours away, but it was still bright outside.

On the way back home, they stopped at in a small town outside of New York City. The town had long since seen better days, but the people were kind enough and directed the group to a small diner. It was quiet, with few patrons inside, but no one really paid any attention to that, and more to the rumbling of their stomachs. Erik slid into the long booth first, followed by Raven, then Emma, with Charles on the end in his wheelchair. Within a few minutes, an elderly waitress came to the table, hands slightly shaking as she carried a tray of water.

"Hello, dears, how is everyone today?" Her voice was soft and slightly raspy from years of smoking. The group smiled and politely exchanged hellos and 'Fine, thank you's before ordering their food.

Once she left, Raven put on a quizzical look and whispered, "Okay, is it just me, or did that woman look and sound like the one that we just got done seeing?" They all took another look at the woman who had begun to read off the order to the cook.

"She's her twin sister." Charles said confidently. No one said a word, but the images of the cat lady ran through Erik's mind causing him to shudder. That was one visit that any of them did not want to relive again. The conversation then quickly turned to who was next on the list of coordinates.

"I say we go home first, get a good night's sleep, and then continue first thing in the morning." Raven said. She was barely keeping her eyes open, but Erik wasn't ready to stop just yet.

"As much as I agree with that, we need to figure this out now. Who knows how many we still have left to find."

"Well," Emma said snatching the list out of his hands, "There are thirty others here on the list. I highly doubt that we'll be able to find all of them and convince them to go by tomorrow."

Erik firmly took the list back and glanced at Charles. The telepath had remained silent for past half hour, and that worried him. Normally he would have been excited at the prospect of finding more mutants to save, but his silence this time was unnerving.

_Charles? _Erik sent to him, _Charles, are you all right?_ He tried to keep the edge of panic out of his tone, but failed miserably. _Charles, answer me, please._

_ I'm fine, Erik, just a bit tired. Yes, I can admit when I'm tired._ The sarcasm made Erik chuckle outwardly, but didn't satisfy his concern for Charles's health.

While Emma and Raven argued over whether to go home or not, Erik cleared his throat over the two and said, "Actually, I do think that we need to go back. We won't be able to reach everyone in time, and I don't think that the government will pass the Act in the next two days."

Raven inclined her head and stuck her tongue out at Emma.

"You're a child," countered the other woman. Their mindless arguing was tuned out by the metal-bender, who had begun to think about all the children—and even the adults—that they had found that day who had agreed to go. Once again his thoughts were disturbed by the elderly twin of the cat lady they had met earlier, bringing their food to the table. The conversation died down a little, but Erik still thought about everything that had happened that day in between bites of steak.

When they had finished and paid—leaving a generous tip, as only Charles would—Emma pulled out the coordinate list. The first fifteen had been crossed off, some with checks, others with exes.

"We have time for one more tonight," she said looking up from the list. "Or do we want to wait for tomorrow?" Erik exchanged looks with Raven and Charles before replying that the next day was the better option. During the ride back to Westchester, Erik tried to focus on the road but the list seemed more interesting. The names that had been crossed off and checked gave him a little more hope that something was actually going to go right. Charles had told them that the next mutant on the list was a girl named Jean. Quickly he glanced at Charles in the rear-view mirror, his head drooped against Raven's now-blue shoulder. _Yes,_ he thought, returning his focus back to the darkened road ahead, _Something is definitely going right for a change._


	13. Just Like Before

Unlike the previous day, Charles was not up right after Erik was. In fact, he lay in bed, shirtless, the blankets pushed down to his waist, his pale chest rising and falling with the ease of deep sleep, until close to noon. When his eyelids finally did flutter open, revealing his sky blue eyes, he sat bolt upright, quickly flinging his arms back to support himself as he checked the time. Once he saw how late into the day it was, he groaned and leaned forwards, placing his head down on the mattress between his knees

"Erik," he reached over to shake the metal-bender awake, but only felt air in the space where the other man should have been. Lifting his head slightly, the younger man scanned the room and found Erik on the window seat, his back pressed against the wall, his gaze directed on something in the distance that the telepath could not see from where her was.

By instinct, he reached for the white button up shirt he had laid out on the bed the night before and quickly began to put it on before the other turned and saw him shirtless. As he did this, he glared at the other man and said, "Why didn't you wake me up earlier? We should have left hours ago. You know now all we're going to be able to do is talk to that girl's parents before we have to come home, yes? I do not want to be out until after dark."

"You needed to sleep, Charles," the other replied, still staring out the window. "You were exhausted when we got home last night. I had to carry you to bed and undress you. You didn't even stir when I took off your clothes."

The telepath winced at the older man's words. They reminded him too much of something his stepfather would say, but he did not mention this. He only pulled on a pair of black slacks, along with a navy blue sweater before he carefully maneuvered himself from the bed to his wheelchair, saying, "My rest and health is not more important than saving an entire race, Erik."

"Don't say that."

Charles looked up, a shocked expression dominating his features. The harsh tone the metal-bender used was hardly the reason the younger man paused in the middle of straightening his clothing. It was the sheer concern, the pure anxiety and pain he heard in the other's voice that had him looking up, his fingers slowly letting go of his clothes, his hands lowering, his arms falling limp at his sides.

"Erik, I don't…what are you t –" he tried to stammer out a response, but was cut off almost instantly by the other man in the room.

"Please do not act as though you don't know," he said so softly, the telepath was unsure he'd spoken. He was turned towards him now and as the younger man watched, Erik got up off the window seat and crossed the room, so he was kneeling in front of him. He took both of his hands in his own and looked up into his eyes, his own full of desperation as he whispered, "You are more important to me than life, Charles. You are so constantly sick and always pushing yourself that it tears at my heartstrings. I can't bear to see you in such a state, but I _have_ to because you refuse to keep yourself from becoming ill."

Licking his lips, the telepath began trembling as the older man turned away, letting out a small chuckle of sarcasm, whispering as he turned back, "Do you have _any_ idea how important you are to me?" Charles sighed and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Erik's hands were on his cheeks, their foreheads pressed together, their eyes closed and the other repeated, his voice now only a whisper, "Do you?"

This time when he sighed, it was soft and relaxed, as though he were letting out a breath he had been holding for a very long time. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around the metal-bender's neck and whispered in his ear, "I love you," before closing the distance between their lips, running his fingers up into his hair.

"So, Erik, this is the reason you came back is it?"

If Charles had ever been murderous before in his life that was nothing compared to how he felt now. He could have thrown a knife through the diamond woman's heart – if she had one – for ruining the moment he'd been having with Erik and not feel guilty in the slightest. He often felt that she lived to ruin other people's lives and take away their happiness. It was maddening and he wanted to leave her home, locked in the cellar, but, closing his eyes and gripping the arms of his wheelchair, he reminded himself it would not do him good to have one of his future students find a woman who had been locked away. In fact, it would not do him good to have one of his future students find her at all, but seeing as he had no choice, he figured the former would be easier to prevent than the latter.

Erik pushed Charles out of his bedroom, refusing to respond to Emma's question. As they passed her, she smirked chuckled and winked at the younger of the two. Involuntarily, the telepath blinked and blushed before quickly looking away. Whatever he might say, there was a small part – albeit a infinitesimal part – of him that thought the woman in white pretty, even beautiful. Trying to keep this thought as far from his mind as he possibly could, he reached his hand over his shoulder and waited until Erik took it, smiling when the other was soon walking by his side, using his powers to move the contraption the other needed to get around.

* * *

><p>Luckily, Charles was the only one to sleep in late and in less than an hour, Raven, Emma and Erik were all out on road once more, heading towards the house they'd put off visiting until morning. Before they left, the young professor warned those who were remaining at the mansion to allow anyone inside who said he had spoken with them the day before. He gave Alex instructions to give them all rooms on the upper floors and Hank – who was the best cook out of them all – to make them lunch, should they ask for it. It was only after everyone else had sworn they wouldn't cause any trouble that he finally felt safe to leave.<p>

Now he was pushing himself up a walkway of a house that had been blocked off by a white picket fence that Erik easily unlocked. There were flowers along the rectangle of concrete he was going along and the grass was a deep lush green. They reached the door with no problem seeing as this house didn't have a front stoop that would prevent the telepath from entering the home due to the fact he was in a wheelchair.

Raven, now in her blonde form, reached around her brother and pressed the doorbell. The four of them waited for a moment, listening to the sound as it rang throughout the small house. Less than a minute later, the door opened to reveal a pretty red-haired woman. She had green eyes and freckles that went across her nose and cheeks. There was a green bandana holding her hair back from her face and she was wearing what appeared to be work clothing.

Unlike the other parents they'd met, she didn't peek around the edge, she flung it open and smiled broadly at them. Charles couldn't help but notice Emma ruffle her feathers as she saw there really were women in the world more beautiful than her.

"Hello," she said, still smiling. "What can I do for you?"

Not missing a beat, the telepath smiled broadly and said, "Good afternoon. Might I ask, are you the mother of Jean Grey?"

The woman's smile vanished in an instant. "Yes?" she said, her voice tentative.

"My name is Charles Xavier," he replied, stretching out his hand to take hers.

"Elaine," she responded, nodding, still sounding apprehensive.

"Might we come in?"

Elaine Grey stepped aside, giving the young man a wide berth due to his wheelchair. However, she seemed to step back even more when Erik came in, though Charles was sure this was only because of the metal-bender's constant frown. Emma and Raven came through last, the former immediately taking the single couch in the living room the red-headed woman led them into. Raven rolled her eyes and sat next to a rather disgruntled Erik on the loveseat. She seemed to be as uncomfortable about this as he did.

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked.

Charles nodded, asking for tea. Erik shook his head. Raven asked for a can of Coca Cola – her favorite drink ever since the telepath could remember – and Emma asked for water with an uncharacteristically sweet smile.

The moment Elaine left the living room to get these beverages, Erik turned to the younger man in the wheelchair, still staring after the other woman and hissed, "I don't like her. She's hiding something. Did you see the way she looked when you asked about her daughter? Why would she look like that if there was nothing for _us _to be worried about?"

The telepath sighed. "Have you ever considered that perhaps it is her daughter she's worried for and not us? Maybe she knows about the Act and believes us to be government officials. You can't assume that all humans are out to get us and our kind, Erik."

"You say that as though you know what she's thinking," he responded crossing his arms over his chest.

Charles gave him a look and was about to open his mouth to remind the metal-bender that he did in fact know what she was thinking when the woman returned to the room with a tray of glasses of various shapes and sizes. It appeared she'd brought something for herself as well as Erik despite him not asking for anything. After she'd distributed the drinks, she sat down in the rocking chair near the fireplace and said, sipping her own tea, "What do you want with Jean?"

Not bothering to take a drink, the young professor set his beverage down on top of a coaster that was sitting atop the coffee table before him and turned to the woman smiling as he said, "As you may know, there is something coming about in early 1964 called the Mutant Registration Act. You and I both know that your daughter Jean is a mutant. It is for this reason that I would like to bring her to my school for young mutants to both teach her to control her mutation and protect her from this law."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Elaine asked, setting her tea down as well. She leaned forward in her chair, placing her elbows on her knees, scrutinizing the man before her.

Charles copied her movements, looking deep into her eyes, responding, "Because I, like your daughter, am a mutant as are all of my friends here. Erik can bend metal. My sister, Raven, can shape-shift and that woman on the end, Emma, can turn her skin into diamonds. Trust me when I say we are here to help your daughter, not harm her."

The woman was silent for quite some time before she finally said, "I am perfectly alright with allowing her to go with you, but ultimately it is her choice whether or not she will join you. I will not force my daughter to leave her home, even if it is for her protection."

They weren't in the Grey house for much longer. After Elaine called her daughter downstairs, it was only a matter of her displaying her powers and them displaying theirs before she agreed to go with them. Her mother asked if they could take her back to the mansion immediately. She was afraid government officials were going to find her daughter before the Act was put in place and take her away.

"That happened to a woman down the streets," Elaine whispered, gesturing to the window and a yellow house only a few away from theirs. "Her son had the ability to…well I can't remember what it was, but he was a mutant too. Anyway, one day agents from the government showed up and asked to speak with him for a minute. The next day, he never got home from school."

This news scared Charles and he could see by the way Erik's eyes widened and he began to shake, it scared him as well. After thanking the woman for the information as well as allowing her daughter to join their school, the four of them left, the young red-headed girl in tow. She was just as cheerful and enthusiastic as her mother and, seeing as everyone else was too preoccupied with the news of the government now invading homes and snatching children on their way home from school each day, Raven took care of her, settling her in the backseat.

Emma allowed Charles to have the passenger seat this time and sat next to Raven and Jean, staring out the window, nervous in her own way.

"This is just how it happened last time," Erik whispered as he started the car, his fingers still trembling. "They would take children away as they walked home from school. They would take people from their houses in the dead of night. They always ended up in the same place: a concentration camp where they were worked until they were of no more use."

To this, the telepath had no response. As much as he had tried to convince himself over and over that this was not how things were run in the United States, it appeared he was being proven wrong. He watched the scenery fly by as the metal-bender drove them home, driving faster than he normally did, wondering both how much time they had before the Act was passed and what would happen once it was.


	14. Need You Now

What Elaine Grey had told them about the little boy who was taken from school shook Erik to his core. He sat in the driver's seat, knuckles tightly clasped around the steering wheel, quiet fury and terror rising inside of him as he drove down the winding roads back to Westchester. It was just as it had been before. He knew history had chances of repeating itself, but he never thought it would be happening so soon and to the people that he cared about the most. Within the first ten minutes of the journey back, a loud clap of thunder followed by torrents of rain awoke memories that Erik had never forgotten.

_It was cold, but that was not unusual. He shuffled through the lines and throngs of other Jews with his mama and papa, clinging to them for dear life. Mama said that they would be together, and that everything would be fine. Once they passed the gate however, nothing was. Where were they taking his mama and papa? Suddenly little Erik was being forced down a different way._

_ He called out for his mama…and he heard her call out to him. But they could not reach each other. Again and again Erik screamed for his parents, but then the gate was shut with a disheartening metal slam. And still he screamed. Several guards tried to restrain him, but he fought them. Reaching out with his hand as if it would somehow bring him closer to his mama, he pushed and pulled against his captors until the anger and sorrow that he felt managed to pull the gate towards him, and he along with his human restraints towards the gate. Erik continued to pull at the gate; dragging the guards that held him through the mud as the rain drenched them all. _

_ Then suddenly, a guard came and hit Erik with the butt of his rifle. Everything went black as he felt his body fall to the soft ground. The guards left him there, slightly unconscious—alone. His eyes fluttered as he came to, but it was too late. His mama was gone, and he was alone in this strange place. Little did he know that someone was watching him move the gate. And little did he realize as he lay there in the mud, the sharp, stinging, iciness of the rain beating down on his face, that he would be alone in strange places for a very long time._

"Erik, watch out!" Raven lurched forward as a pair of headlights became dangerously close to the front of their vehicle. Erik quickly reacted and swerved back into the right lane, his hands gripping the wheel more fiercely than before. Had he fallen asleep? He didn't remember even feeling tired, but it was possible. He quickly looked to his right at Charles who had woken up momentarily in shock at the commotion that was occurring.

"Is everyone alright? What happened? Raven? Jean? Emma? Erik, are you al—" The metal-bender slowly turned his gaze towards the younger man and reached over with his right hand to place it on Charles's. They met each other's gaze for a few moments more, each man reassuring the other that they were fine at least for the time being.

"If you don't mind," Emma chimed, breaking the connection, "You almost got us killed once tonight because you fell asleep at the wheel. There's no need to try and finish the deed by being distracted." Once again, the "Ice Queen"—as Erik had often heard Alex and Sean refer to Emma as—had managed to ruin a perfectly pleasant moment with her snide remarks. The rest of the drive was quiet. Unspoken questions lingered in the air, but no one wished to answer them at the moment.

Jean had fallen asleep on the way, but had awoken momentarily when Raven nudged her softly. The small girl then wrapped herself around the shape-shifter who carried her to the bedroom that had been assigned to her. Erik was the last to exit the van, lingering behind everyone else to falsely inspect the steering system, claiming that their near-death experience was a malfunction of the mechanics. When he thought that there was no one left in the massive garage, the metal-bender sat in the driver's seat, his elbows propped up and his head resting in his palms. The rain continued to pour and Erik could hear the rushing sound of the water in the gutters.

What had happened to him earlier? If anyone asked, he would have to come up with some sort of lie to cover for the fact that he nearly relived the worst day of his life—the first one at least.

"Because we can't have anyone thinking that you're anything less than solid, now can we?" The voice of the only person Erik ever allowed inside his head echoed through the garage. Charles then came up beside the older man and waited. Erik could tell that there was bound to be a discussion about what had happened; what was happening with the mutant children that they had been unable to find and save in time… but Charles said nothing and only waited for Erik to be the one to initiate the conversation. It didn't help that they were both incredibly stubborn, so they sat in silence amidst the cars for what seemed like an hour.

"I—I remembered the day—that—my mother died." His voice was hoarse from hours of being unused. Charles just watched as Erik got out of the van and began to take small steps away from him. "I don't know what happened. One minute I was completely fine—well, more or less—and the next I almost kill us all. How do you think that makes me look to Jean?" He ran his long fingers through his hair and took in a sharp breath.

"She's only a little girl. And Tyler, his mom was worried sick about him when he discovered his mutation. She never let him out of her sight after they had found out. And now he's here, and Jean's here, and the others that had shown up…" He took a moment to compose himself, planning out where he was going with his small speech. "They don't deserve this, Charles," he said in a hushed tone. "They don't deserve any of this. No one does. To be taken from the people that you love, to be looked down upon by your own country, having no one there that you can trust lest they turn you in to the government…no one deserves that."

Charles continued to silently observe and listen. Erik could see the faint glint of tears on the verge of spilling over the telepath's face.

"Please say something, Charles. I need you to say something that will help me with this." He pleaded with Charles to tell him that the Act is nothing but a dream, that the little mutant boy simply went to a friend's house and ended up spending the night, or that Emma was wrong and they could get rid of her. But the response wasn't something that Erik wanted to hear.

Charles drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "You're already helping yourself, Erik. By finding these children and bringing them here, you're saving yourself a lot of guilt and pain than if you were ignorant about the whole thing. You—us saving them is making the biggest difference in their lives. They need us, our help." Erik went over to the professor and kissed his forehead softly.

"I need answers, Charles. I need to know why the government is doing this." It took a few more minutes for Charles to fully grasp what the Erik had said, but when he did, the tears that were threatening to unleash themselves flowed freely. There was nothing stopping Erik from releasing a few stray tears of his own. He had made up his mind the night after Emma had told them about the Act. There was no way that she could figure out exactly what it was, and he couldn't bear the thought of asking Charles to use Cerebro again.

"Erik, please think about what you're doing…you promised." His voice came out in a whisper and it tore at the metal-bender's soul. Now how could he do it? He did make a promise, but this was bigger than that.

"I—I won't be long. I just need to know why. I can't ask you to exhaust yourself again using Cerebro, and Emma doesn't even know herself." He knelt down next to the telepath and looked him squarely in the eyes. "I'm doing this for us—for the children and anyone else who needs to feel safe. If we know what we're up against, then we can better prepare ourselves." Charles looked away, but Erik caught his chin. "You know I'm right." He gave a small smirk before bringing his lips upon Charles's, creating another promise that he would never break. They broke apart but didn't say a word. They didn't need to.

After several more minutes, Erik stood and brought Charles inside. He had to do it now. Three—four—five days, at the most. That's it. He would the answers that he needed, and then return. He had no choice but to return. His life was there now: sitting in a wheelchair with brilliant blue eyes. Slipping out into the night, the glowing lights of the Xavier mansion gave Erik more than enough motivation to go through with his plan and not turn around. It would take about half a day to get to Washington, but that only meant he would be half a day closer to stopping the Act and saving those who needed him too.


	15. Crumpled Metal

_The missiles were flying towards them at hundreds of miles per hour. All they could do was stare at them, wait for them to slam into the beach and destroy them. Just when Charles was saying his final goodbyes, closing his eyes, preparing to open them once more to see his mother's face, Erik raised his hand and the deadly weapons stopped in midair, the smoke that had been trailing behind them dissipating. _

_ For a moment, all the telepath, the metal-bender and their fellows could do was stare at the large cylindrically shaped weapons floating above them, stunned that they were not dead. Barely three seconds passed before the man wearing the helmet turned his hand, the missiles doing so as well, so they were now facing the ships they'd just come from. _

_ Noticing the intensity of his friend's gaze, Charles began to panic, knowing exactly what it was that the other was thinking, despite the metal helmet, blocking him from his mind. He turned to him and said, trying to sound calm, "Erik, you said yourself, we're the better men. This is the time to prove it." _

_ The only response he got was silence._

_ "There are thousands of men on those ships," he added, his calm slipping, his voice rising as he tried to reason with the other man. "Good, honest, _innocent_ men." There was a slight pause before he said softly, almost pleadingly, "They're just following orders."_

_ A muscle in Erik's face twitched and immediately the telepath knew he'd said the wrong thing. The worst part was, he should have known it was the wrong thing to say. After all the metal-bender had been through? How could he possibly say something so insensitive?_

_ "I've been at the mercy of men 'just following orders'," the older man responded, his voice frighteningly soft. Charles' eyes widened, his breath quickened and he tried to contain himself, tried not to panic more than he already was as the other turned to him adding, "Never again," before he flung his hand forward, causing the missiles to do the same, headin back in the direction they'd been fired._

_ "Erik release them!" he shouted, the anxiety he was feeling intensifying._

_ Nothing happened and before he knew what he was doing, the telepath was running at the metal-bender, screaming. He grabbed him around the middle upon impact, knocking him to the ground, hoping the missiles would fall with him. He tried to push the helmet off of his friend's head, willing to do anything to keep him from killing thousands of innocents._

_ "I don't want to hurt you," the older man said fiercely, pushing him to the side. The younger man cried out in pain as his friend's bony elbow connected with his cheek and he added, "Don't make me."_

_ "Stay back!" he heard him shout along with a thump, indicating that his students had been flung back in the sand by the buckles of their jumpsuits._

_ Despite him still trying to shove off the helmet, Erik managed to keep his missiles upright and flying towards the US and Russian ships. The telepath's breathing was staggered and unsure as his gloved fingers slipped on the cool metal. He felt his thumb gain some purchase on the edge of the contraption and, trying to give him one more chance, shouted, "Erik stop!"_

_ This only earned him a punch in the jaw that numbed his entire face. He felt a weight lift from his midsection and realized the metal-bender had gotten off him as well. For a moment, he lay in the sand, the sky above him spinning in circles, making him sick to his stomach. Then, as he began trying to push himself to his feet, he heard the sound of a bullet ricocheting off metal. _

_ He paid no attention, hearing several more gunshots that all ended with thuds in the sand around him. It was only when he was on his feet, taking a step forwards that a pain unlike any he'd ever experienced before in his life shot up his spine. He pressed his hand to the wound, but this didn't lessen the agony even slightly. He fell to the ground, already knowing he would never rise again as his friend rushed to his side, tore the bullet from his back and cradled him in his arms for what he believed would be the last time._

* * *

><p>"Professor?"<p>

Charles' tightly shut eyelids fluttered open and he took his head out of his hand to see who was speaking to him. The fist he had tightly clenched loosened slightly and he swallowed, trying to keep the tears that had been forming in his eyes at bay. He took a shuddering breath and looked up, unsurprised to see Alex in the doorway to his study.

The young mutant looked as though he had something he needed to ask him, but when he saw his mentor's face, that sudden urge vanished and instead he asked, "What's wrong?"

It had not occurred to the telepath until that moment that he looked as miserable as he felt and when his student asked, seeing as there was no way he could hide it without making it blatant that he was doing so, he sighed and swallowed, saying softly, "Erik has gone to Washington to see what else we do not know about this Mutant Registration Act."

His fist tightened once more and his other hand dropped, his fingers curling around the blue wool blanket covering his legs. The young professor did not bother adding that the metal-bender had promised he would never leave again, knowing this would only add fuel to the flames he could see igniting behind his student's eyes.

Alex acted just as the other had predicted he would.

"He did _what_? He _left_? He's _gone_?" The young mutant was clearly incredulous. "But…why now? He can't be gone now! You-you have to start your school! You have to take care of all these other mutants that have come to live with you! He can't just go now! You can just find more mutants with Cerebro! He knows that!"

Charles didn't respond. One of Erik's requests before he'd left was that, while he was away, the telepath did _not_ use Cerebro. The metal-bender was sincerely frightened by how tired the younger man got when he used it nowadays. He was sure he was slowly digging his way into an early grave and, knowing what would happen to him if he died, the young professor knew he had to stay alive for more than this reason.

Sighing, he looked up once more and said, "I promised him that I would not use Cerebro, whilst he was away. He is afraid by how tired I am after I use it and is also fearful that I may die if I use it too often. As apathetic as I am in the event of my death for the good of mutants as a whole, I know that I must not die for his sake and for yours."

He received no comprehensible response from the boy. Only what sounded like a cry of anger, a loud thud, which, no doubt, was the result of him slamming his fist into the wall and then another cry, this time of pain. When he got no response from his mentor because of this, the young mutant sighed, mumbled something unintelligible and left the study, going back down the hall in a silent a rather calm matter.

Once the sound of footsteps vanished, Charles lowered his fist, the one supporting his head and uncurled his now cramped fingers.

The bullet, the small piece of metal that had crumpled just as he did when it lodged itself within his spine, now slowly rolled to the middle of his sweaty palm. For a moment, he simply stared at it, wondering how so small a thing could do so much damage. Then that moment passed and he clenched his palm around it again, feeling the burn once more.

He'd found it in the drawer of Erik's nightstand, wrapped in the folds of a piece of paper covered in writing that had only torn at the telepath's heart even more, reminding him once more that, though it had been several days, since the metal-bender's departure, there would be several more before he returned home.

This thought in mind, he pulled the paper out of the pocket of his cardigan, unfolded it as carefully as though it were made of porcelain and began reading the words written in the metal-bender's flowing script once more.

_What have I done? Every day I ask myself this question over and over. I keep trying to come up with a logical answer to why I decided to deflect that one bullet and stop all the rest. I keep trying to come up with a good reason as to why I left Charles lying there, maybe even bleeding to death, on that beach. I keep trying to understand why I didn't tell him the feelings in my heart at that moment. I have so many questions to which I want answers, yet I have none. I want to leave this place and go back to Charles and ask him these things. He would know what to say. He would know what to do. He would understand…_

_ Or would he? _

_ As I think on this now, holding this bullet in one hand, writing with the other, I can't help, but wonder if I have ruined everything. Although, I was sure I had destroyed our relationship the moment I placed that helmet on my head. I _knew _I'd ended it when I saw the look in his eyes after telling him the simple blatant lie of how the both of us want the same thing. How could I have said something so stupid? Is it not clear that Charles wants to coexist with humans, while I want them all to suffer and pay for their crimes against humanity? _

_ I can feel the burn of this bullet. I will carry it with me always now. I will carry it with me until Charles has forgiven me, but I know that will never happen. He thought he had a friend he could trust and depend on, but I broke that trust in less than thirty minutes. How could he ever want to allow me anywhere near him again? Even if he does somehow manage to find it in his heart to forgive me – which I am half hoping he does not – I will never, never forgive myself. I have caused something permanent, something that cannot be changed. If it were not for me, Charles would be walking right now. But he isn't. He is confined to a wheelchair and always will be. Because of me. Because of my stupidity. _

_ You know, I carried around that coin because that was a symbol of how I had been hurt, victimized. It was something I needed with me to remind me why I was doing what I was. Every time I looked at it, or held in the palm of my hand, I could feel the anger radiating off of it and every time I did this, I told myself over and over again that this would all be over once that coin had gone through Schmidt's head. _

_ But I was wrong. I was so very, very wrong._

_ Now, just as I held that coin, I hold this bullet. I carry it around with me because it is a symbol of how I hurt someone else, how I turned my hurt into someone else's. It is something that I need to remind me of what I have done and can never undo. Every time I look at this bullet or clench it in my fist, I don't feel anger pulsing through my veins, I feel pain. I feel a distinct burn that can only be described as the ultimate agony and that is what I caused Charles. Agony. _

_ I will carry this bullet with me until the day I die and when I do, I will make sure that Mystique knows to bury it with me. I don't want to ever be freed from this guilt. I do not deserve such a gift. _

Just as he had when he'd read the paper the first time, tears filled the telepath's eyes and his fist around the bullet tightened.

He knew _exactly_ what Erik was speaking of, being able to feel the pain radiating from the small piece of damaged metal. He could feel it too, but it was not his own pain. It was Erik's. It was his overwhelming guilt over what had happened. As the younger man sat there in his study in his wheelchair, he realized everything made so much sense now.

The look in the metal-bender's eyes when he'd left. The sadness he saw in them constantly when the other believed he was not looking. The way the other was up late into the night, standing by the window, watching the moon make its way across the sky before he climbed in bed just before dawn.

Charles only the last bit happened because he had awakened many a night to find the right side of the bed empty and cold and when he began to panic, when he rolled over, he found the man he was looking for, standing at the window, gazing out across the Xavier grounds, tears silently falling down his face, one hand placed atop his wheelchair.

It was a sight that made Charles irreversibly sad. Every time he thought of it, he remembered how he had caused the older man to hate himself for so long because of what he had done and he was sure that even now, he was still wondering whether or not he had truly been forgiven. One of the many advantages the younger man to being a telepath was he knew when someone was lying. Sadly, Erik did not. He could only trust the other's words and the feelings he sent him to reassure him.

Placing the bullet in the pocket of his cardigan he glanced at the calendar. Erik had promised he would be home either tomorrow or the next, though knowing the other man, the telepath was sure it was going to be longer than that. He would get as much information as he could and if that meant prolonging his homeward journey, then so be it.

_Please, my friend, my love, _Charles thought desperately, placing his elbows on the arms of his wheelchair, leaning forward to set his head in his hands, trying not to panic too much, _please be alright. Please come home. Come back Come back to me._


	16. Inside Help

The drive to D.C. was faster than Erik had originally expected. It was early and he had been driving all night. The sun was just peeking over the tops of the trees that lined the side of the highway. Soon he would be within the city limits and ready to break into wherever he needed to go to find the answers he wanted. He kept his focus on the road ahead, but every so often his thoughts would drift back to how he had left Charles—again.

_You'll return, _he said to himself silently. _You'll return, and everything will be exactly as it should have been a long time ago._

As much as Erik wanted to believe it, a part of him knew that there would always be a chance that something would happen and he wouldn't make it back to Charles. _No, _he thought. He accelerated the car, attempting to banish the negative thoughts from his mind with the roar of the engine.

The last hour and a half felt like ten to the metal-bender. His eyelids began to grow heavy as he pulled into a gas station and waited on the attendant to fill up the car. While reaching for the small wallet that he kept with him, his fingers brushed against the edge of something in his pocket. He furrowed his brow and pulled out a folded piece of paper, to which he realized wasn't actual paper, but a photograph. Unfolding the picture, Erik took in a sharp breath. It was the picture of Charles and himself that Raven had given him as a gift. He had almost forgotten about the photo album. The black and white image of Charles and himself casually posed together, Charles smiling widely, almost brought tears to Erik's eyes. Things weren't simpler back then, but they were slightly less complicated than they were now. Erik couldn't even remember the last time that Charles had smiled like he had in the picture, and it tore at him. He flipped the picture over and reread Raven message.

_I hope you cherish these memories as much as I do. Everyone deserves to be happy and loved. Happy Hanukkah, Erik._

_Love, Raven _

Instead of folding the photograph back up, Erik placed it in the visor with a sad smile.

_"Everyone deserves to be happy and loved." _Raven's message repeated itself in his head as he paid the attendant and sped off again towards D.C. He didn't know exactly where to start, but he knew someone that would be able to help him.

The streets were already bustling as Erik drove into D.C. He passed government buildings and monuments, each reminding him of why he had come in the first place. It was there then that he passed the Lincoln memorial. That was where he had told Charles that one day humans would begin discovering mutants and plan for their elimination. Charles had been so hopeful and sure of himself that that would never happen. "_Not this time," _had been his words. Erik scoffed at the irony of it all.

"I didn't want to say, 'I told you so,'" Erik chuckled to himself as he parked the car a good distance away from the building that he knew would serve his needs. Checking that he was not followed—more out of habit than paranoia—the metal-bender made the short trek towards the building where Homeland Security operated.

Erik strolled calmly through the front doors of the building, no one taking particular notice in him. He had changed his clothing to a crisp grey suit, his briefcase in one hand and coat in the other. To anyone else, he may as well have been another employee. Taking in his surroundings, Erik noticed the list of offices and departments conveniently place on the wall next to the elevator. He trailed his eyes down the list until he spotted the name he needed: _MacTaggert, Moira._ When contemplating who would prove most useful, Erik sadly could only think of one person. It was only a matter of time before she would get mixed up in the mutant world again.

In the elevator, a few agents come in, not even bothering to make small talk with Erik. And that was just fine with him. He just wanted to get the whole meeting over with and get back to New York…back to Charles. The bell signaling the end of the metal-bender's journey brought him out of his stupor. He then found his way through the twists and turns of the long hallway to the small office of Agent Moira MacTaggert. Erik sighed and knocked lightly on the door.

"Just a minute!" was the reply from the other side. Erik mumbled under his breath. He didn't want to be kept waiting when there were other people's lives at stake. A few seconds later, the door opened and the petite brunette stepped into his line of sight. Instantly her blank face shifted to anger and shock. Erik could tell she was either about to reach for a weapon, or slam the door in his face. She proceeded with the latter. Erik then put himself between Moira and the door, determination and annoyance hinting in his eyes.

"Don't even think about going for the phone, Agent MacTaggert," he said trying to be as polite as possible. "Trust me when I say it won't end well for anyone." Moira narrowed her eyes at him and continue to try to push him out. He was too strong, but she kept trying.

"And give me one good reason why I shouldn't?" Erik rolled his eyes. He was seriously tired of everyone asking him that question. But he decided to answer her.

"Because I need your help." That didn't seem to stop her from trying to kick Erik out. Instead, she pushed harder.

"And why the hell should I help you after what you did?" She was beginning to strain herself.

"Because Charles needs your help more than I do, and if you don't help us a lot of people are going to die." Moira stopped pushing on the door, causing Erik to slam the door against the wall. She took a few hesitant steps back. Erik took a minute to adjust himself and walked over to the desk that Moira was now behind.

"What do you mean Charles needs my help? I don't even know where he is, let alone what he needs." Erik had almost forgotten that Charles had erased her memory just enough so that she would be ignorant of the location of the mansion. At least she still knew who he was and what had happened, even if it would be better if everyone forgot.

"I—we need to know about the Mutant Registration Act. I know you have some knowledge about it, and because of your—relationship—with mutants, I figured that you would be more willing to help." Moira didn't say a word. Erik couldn't read her as well as most people, but he knew that she was skeptical.

"How do you know about that? That's classified information."

"I have my sources. And my sources told me that you would be the most willing to help. Either way, I came for information, and I have no intention of leaving Washington until I get the answers." They squared off and Erik could see that the agent had no intention of budging.

"Why didn't you go to Virginia first? Didn't you think I would be there instead of in Washington?" It was a rather odd question, but Erik answered her.

"My source also said that you had been transferred to Homeland Security after that little incident in Cuba. Apparently your superiors felt that field work was too much for you, so they had to remove the temptation." Moira hardened her stare at the metal-bender. Erik smirked then turned serious. "So tell me what I need to know, Moira. I know you want to help mutants as much as Charles and I do."

The agent said nothing, but sat down at her desk. Erik leaned in and lowered his voice, "We found out that a boy was taken from his school. He was a mutant and agents came and took him. He was just a little boy. We need your help, Moira. Without you, we won't know what we're up against, and a lot of innocent mutants are going to be taken and experimented on for the sake of 'homeland security.'"

There was no way for her to deny it. Erik pulled away from the desk waiting for her answer. There was a long silence before Moira lowered her gaze.

"Fine. I'll help." Erik uttered a small inaudible sigh of relief, but Moira's eyes narrowed more than before. "But we have to do this on my terms. We can't talk about this here, so we'll have to meet somewhere private." Erik nodded and picked up his coat to leave.

"Thank you, Moira." As he headed for the door, Moira stopped him. "I'm only doing this for Charles, you know." Erik turned and faced her.

"I know. But you're helping, which is all that counts right now." And with that, he left her office knowing that he was one step closer to stop history from repeating itself.


	17. A New and Brighter Birth

Since Erik's absence and Charles reverting back to what he had been doing before and then after the metal-bender had returned, everyone was becoming antsy once more. The young mutants, who were the origin of Charles' school were starting to distrust and be hostile towards the Brotherhood, the few new students that the telepath had managed to attain were starting to become as anxious as the others. It was for these reasons that the professor decided to come up with a schedule and start his classes. It would keep him busy until Erik returned.

It took him about two weeks to do this and by that time, he had just under ten students. They had their names, but they'd also come up with what Raven had first declared were their code names. A boy by the name of Bobby Drake had decided on the name Iceman due to his mutation that allowed him to control and produce ice; Irene Alder, a girl who could see into the future, had come up with the name Destiny; and Warren Worthington – a wealthy boy, who had the wings of an angel growing out of his shoulders – called himself Archangel.

Including these three along with Jean, Alex, Raven, Hank and Sean, Charles had a total of eight students. He knew that this wasn't desirable, especially not for someone with an ego as large as his own, but he had Cerebro and during his free time, he used it to attempt to find more young mutants that he could bring to his school and teach to control their mutations. In fact, Charles became so consumed in the studies of his students that he almost forgot his lover was gone to begin with.

As time went on, the students who had known him the longest, began noticing how much happier he was when he was teaching. They noticed how his sadness seemed to vanish and, though he still drank, he didn't do so until he passed out in his study, he only had a small glass of scotch while he corrected his student's papers.

It was during one of these nights that his study door creaked open and when he looked up, he saw Raven. She had a smile on her face, but the look in her eyes was one of what the telepath could only assume was anxiety. Normally he would have told her he was busy, since he'd promised his students he would have their papers corrected by tomorrow, but it was that look that made him do otherwise. She didn't look this upset for no reason. Something was wrong. Something was really, very wrong.

Still, he tried to smile, tried to act as though he saw nothing in her expression. Perhaps this would allow her to feel more comfortable with whatever it was that was happening.

"Raven," he smiled, setting down his correcting pen and removing his reading glasses. "What brings you here? I thought you'd be sleeping by now." It wasn't exactly what _he_ would call late, but for anyone else in the mansion it really was.

As per usual, she was in her natural form. She was also naked, but he had come to accept that this was how she went about and, though it had been quite uncomfortable at first, he was growing accustomed to seeing his younger sister without any clothes.

"N-nothing," she stammered in response, confirming the telepath's suspicions. He could have read her mind if he wanted to and found out what it was that was happening, but he'd promised her he'd never do that and he intended to keep that promise. However, the thoughts that he couldn't help but get from her were suspiciously normal.

He meant to return to his papers, continuing to act as though nothing were the matter, but he could hardly ignore her, now that she'd come all the way into the study and was standing before him, trembling slightly. He knew that it would be very unlike himself to tell her he was glad and was simply enjoying her company. It was for this reason that as he licked his lips, taking in her shaking form, he said softly, "Raven, what's wrong?"

Without warning, the shapeshifter burst into tears, shocking her brother. His eyes widened and, for a long time, he simply sat in his wheelchair behind his desk. However, he eventually came to his senses and once he did, he pushed himself towards her. He allowed her to climb into his lap and cry into his shoulder. Though she was taller and significantly larger than himself, because of his paralysis, this was no longer a problem.

Patiently he waited until her sobs had calmed and then he repeated the question he had asked her before they began. "Raven, what's wrong?"

"Charles," she whispered, still trembling, "Charles I'm pregnant."

Of all the things she could have said, this was not what the telepath was expecting. His first question was how and then who. Though he wanted to ask both of these questions he was sure that she would tell him herself.

"Azazel is the father," she added softly in a way that suggested she was the one with the ability to read thoughts, not him. "And I love him, Charles. I love Azazel and I know he loves me because he's protected me and cared for me so much. I'm just…I'm not ready for a child."

The conversation was becoming most obviously one sided, but the young man didn't mind. This was his sister. She was the most important person in his life next to Erik.

_Erik._

The reminder that he was still not home tugged at his fragile heartstrings. He closed his eyes, a pained expression overcoming him, but he wiped it away the moment Raven pulled her face out of the hollow of his neck and looked at him to see what he thought about all of this. Really, he didn't know what to think. He swallowed hard and tried to make his mouth form words, but nothing happened.

Raven got up out of his lap and said in a soft understanding voice, "You miss him. I know. I'm sorry. I should have waited to tell you about this."

She kissed him once on the cheek and straightened to leave when, at last, Charles' mouth seemed to remember how to work. "Are you going to get an abortion?"

His sister flinched and that was all the answer he needed. He didn't need to hear her say, "Never would I kill a child that belongs to Azazel and I." It was clear by how she had jumped as she had placed a protective hand to her stomach that they were soon going to have a baby running about the house. Charles lips quirked upwards.

_A child…_he thought to himself. _I wonder if Erik would ever want one._


	18. Expect the Unexpected

Another week had gone by since Erik had left Charles in search of Moira MacTaggert. Every few days the former C.I.A. agent would meet him outside of D.C. and present him with any and all information that she could find about the Mutant Registration Act. Three weeks had passed, and there was still very little to go on. This frustrated Erik to no end. In the back of his mind he knew that Moira was doing all she could to help Charles and the rest of the mutant population, but the part of him that distrusted anyone in the government made him believe that she was really spying against them. Three weeks in Washington was longer than Erik had originally planned. All he wanted was to go in, get the information that he needed (using force if necessary), get out, and go back to Charles. Sadly, nothing was ever that simple.

One morning Erik awoke in a cold sweat, fragments of his dream still lingering on the edges of his mind. The dream was just that—a dream. Not a nightmare like so many in the past, but a pleasant sequence of scenes that startled Erik into thinking that it was real, or could ever be. With his eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, the metal bender glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was seven a.m. He had to meet Moira in an hour for another meeting, though he knew it would result in something fruitless like the others had been so far. Reluctantly pulling the covers away from him, Erik made his way to the window to pull back the curtains. Blinding sunlight filled the room, causing Erik to shield his eyes. The street below bustled with cars and people milling about and on their way to work. Erik watched and thought again of his dream. Before long, he was ready to be on his way to meet with Moira.

Grabbing his coat that hung over the back of a chair, Erik was stopped from putting it on by three quick knocks on the door. Instinctively, he reached down for the knife that he always carried with him. Several more knocks came from the other side of the door. If it was someone that had come to take him away or kill him—not necessarily in that order—they would have broken down the door and stormed in. There was only one person that Erik knew would come to him only in the most desperate of times.

Being as quiet as possible, just in case he was wrong, the metal bender crept towards the door and hesitantly peered through the peephole. On the other side was the petite agent scanning the hallway nervously. Once again she brought her hand up to knock, but Erik had already opened the door and pulled her inside forcefully by her arm.

"What's going on?" the metal bender asked as he locked the door once again. "I thought we agreed that _I _was the one to meet you, and that you, under no circumstance would meet me." Erik stared the agent straight in the eyes and waited.

"I couldn't get to the Mall," she rasped, trying to catch her breath. "Someone-someone was there—another agent." Erik's jaw tightened and he could feel his pulse begin to race. Someone had figured out that he and Moira were meeting. A hundred questions flew through his mind in a second. How much did they know? Was this some kind of trick? Would Charles be in danger?

"Are you sure it was another agent?" Erik questioned when he could think straight again. Moira had gained control of her breathing again and nodded.

"Positive. He works in the same department as I do, I've seen him before. He was definitely at the memorial." Erik ran a hand through his hair and went to the window to close the curtains. This was just the sort of thing that he feared would happen.

"How could you let this happen?" His voice was tight, but he knew she heard every word.

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously. "I'm pretty sure that I had nothing to do with the other agent finding out. If anything, I was _too_ cautious and that's why my department became suspicious." Excuses. Nothing but lies to cover up the fact that she had no intention of helping and was just being a puppet for the government.

"I came to you to ask for help, something I never thought I would have to do. You said you would help for Charles, but all you have done was put him in danger."

Even though that wasn't entirely true, Erik couldn't stop himself from blaming Moira. "These past weeks have produced nothing except confirming my belief that we can't trust you—any of you."

Several times Moira tried to interrupt, but was promptly cut off by more of Erik's ranting. Soon, what he was saying wasn't comprehensible even to him. Words in English and German began to mesh together in series of curses and unintelligible sentences. He spoke of Charles being too vulnerable, the children that they had "rescued", how what they've tried to do will affect the mutant population…

Suddenly, Moira removed a large manila envelope from the bag that she had brought with her and threw it at Erik feet. The envelope landed with a dull thud, but it stopped Erik long enough for her to say a few words.

"I couldn't understand half of what you just said, but I know for a fact that it was no more my fault than yours, and I don't blame you for anything—not even what happened in Cuba." Erik's eyes narrowed at the woman, but she kept talking. Pointing to the package on the floor, Moira continued, "I found them a few days ago after a meeting. They're the department director's. I took pictures of every page and had them printed by an informant, who _also_ happens to be a mutant." She took a moment to collect herself before continuing. Erik did nothing but stand and wait.

"Look, I don't know why you've all of a sudden chose to come back, but it's none of my business even though I work in Homeland Security. What you have to do to protect your kind is your issue, and I will help you because I don't want to see anyone innocent get hurt." The metal-bender did not move, did not speak, but continued to stare at the woman.

It was then that Moira noticed the time. "I have to go back to the office and you have to leave town, now." She adjusted her bag and headed for the door, stopping quickly to check through the peephole if the hallway was safe. Quietly she unlocked the door, but gave Erik one last message. "I hope that you find whatever it is that you're looking for." And with that, she shut the door and left the room. Erik could hear her shoes scuff against the carpet until she was far enough that the sound they made had faded.

The envelope that she had brought was still on the floor. Slowly, Erik knelt down and picked it up, not knowing what to expect. He broke the seal and pulled out several sheets of paper and a few photographs. _Had she really done all of this? _Erik thought to himself. Flipping through the papers, he realized that this was all the information that he needed. This phase was now complete, and he could finally go home.

_ Home_…


	19. The Return

It had been three weeks since Erik left and those three weeks had felt, to Charles, like a lifetime. He'd started drinking again. He no longer slept as much as he had been. He never ate. He had fallen back into old habits, ones that had only existed before Erik returned. This was clear to anyone who saw him. He had the dark circles under his eyes again. He was frail and could barely move on his own. He had lost too much weight and was nearly skin and bones again. He'd been able to eat properly when Erik left, but now he could barely swallow anything without throwing it back up. It was clear to anyone who saw the telepath that he'd become ill once more.

Just as before, the others tried to convince him that he was slowly killing himself. Although, now their concern was overlaid with anger and he could hardly blame them. Erik was going to come back. Unlike before, they knew that for sure and here he was drinking, staying up all hours of the night and rejecting all food that was sent his way. A part of him was dreading the metal-bender's return if only because he knew he was going to be in trouble. However, he was beginning to think more and more that he was prepared for this. Alex had been treating him exactly as he had been treating Erik since the metal-bender first returned and there was will doubt in Charles' mind that the metal-bender in question would treat him similarly once he became aware of his current condition.

Of course, the telepath was not above lying to reassure Erik that he was alright. He knew this would only anger the older man even more when he found out the truth of his health, but the younger man found himself not caring. Perhaps that was his apathy come back to greet him. He had a feeling it was because deep down he knew that once Erik found out and became angry with him he was going to be upset that he'd lied to the man he loved. In all actuality, he still hadn't forgiven himself for what he'd done to Erik when he'd allowed himself to become so ill before the metal-bender's return.

Currently, the telepath was sitting in his wheelchair in his study. He was gazing out the window, watching the sunrise. The sky was pink now. Only a half an hour ago, it had been a hazy purple. He'd been up all night again working and thinking. Mostly thinking. Now that he actually had a decent amount of children here, he was beginning to construct class schedules, arranging room placements, and coming up with lesson plans. He was only just now beginning to realize that he was going to need others to help him teach. Yes, he was good in some areas and perhaps he would be able to teach all of the children to begin with, but if things went as he wanted them to, he was eventually going to have more children than he could handle living and learning in his mansion.

_How many students do you think you'll have once you get the academy up and running?_

_ As many as I can manage. Possibly more._

He still remembered having said that to Moira all those months ago. He was just wondering how she was doing now when the door to the study burst open. He whipped around and saw a very angry looking Alex standing in the doorway. He was breathing heavily, his brows were narrowed and his hands were clenched into fists. He was shaking with anger and immediately Charles knew he was in trouble. He'd never seen the young mutant this angry, except perhaps when Erik had first returned and he'd blasted a hole through the front of the mansion, but this was a different kind of anger. He wasn't going to lose control of his powers. Only his temper.

"What is your problem?" he shouted, startling the telepath. "I thought you were doing better! You know what you're doing is selfish right? He's _back _now and even though he was only _temporarily gone_ you're still acting like he's abandoned you all over again! You have more responsibilities this time _professor_," Alex said the word like an insult, his face mocking. "You can't slip up now! You can't just abandon _us_ because _you _feel abandoned! You're not being fair!" There were tears in the young mutant's eyes now and the telepath was taken completely aback. Had he really upset him this much? He was beginning to mentally berate himself, but Alex wasn't finished. "Here I thought that you were getting better! I thought that things were going right! I thought that you were going to finally become the man you once were, the one who taught me to control my powers in a _week_ and became a _father figure_ to me! The only one I've ever known! But no. You're acting like some stupid teenage girl that's lost her first boyfriend because of some stupid fight and you're never going to get over it because you were "in love with him"! You're not being fair to anyone, Charles! Not even yourself!"

Charles glared. If anyone was being unfair right now, it was Alex. He didn't know what he and Erik had. They had been in love before Erik had left and the reason it had been so difficult for the telepath to deal with his absence was because he'd never known love before. The only example of love he'd been given was what his mother had shown him and that was about as close to love as oranges were similar to turkey. However, from the way Alex phrased his speech, it sounded like he knew a lot more about the relationship than he thought. Of course Charles had believed the two of them had strategically kept their romance hidden, but, even if he was a telepath, there were things that slipped his notice and this was, evidently, one of them.

He was just opening his mouth to respond when he realized what he'd heard in Alex's first set of words that caught him completely off guard. _…even though he was only temporarily gone…Was_ gone. Not _is_ gone, but _was. _That meant he was back now. He wasn't gone anymore. But how had he returned and Charles not noticed? He hadn't brought his helmet with him had he? He couldn't remember now. He hadn't been in Erik's room for ages and he avoided looking at the metal-bender's side of his own bedroom because it only reminded him that he wasn't there, but if Alex's words held any kind of truth – and he was certain they did, seeing as the younger mutant had no reason to lie – then Erik was back. His eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates and when the metal-bender suddenly appeared behind Alex, Charles let out a gasp that sounded more like a choked sob. He really was back.

"Erik," Charles gasped, barely able to hear himself. His face split into a smile and, with weak hands, he turned his wheelchair to face the young mutant and the metal-bender standing in the doorway. The older man looked healthy, almost healthier than he had before he left. However, the telepath quickly realized that he looked exactly as he had when he'd left. The only reason he'd thought otherwise was because while the older man had been gone, the image of him in the telepath's mind had been the same as that of when he first met him. Then he'd looked hungry, ill even. Now it was as if they'd switched bodies. Charles was the sickly one where Erik was healthy.

It was only now that the younger man realized there was a hard look in the metal-bender's eyes. Fear filled the telepath instantly because he knew what the older man was going to say before he even opened his mouth. His ability to read minds had nothing to do with this.

"Charles, how could you?" Erik whispered, maneuvering around Alex and walking towards the men in the wheelchair. "I told you that my absence was only going to be temporary…so why are you doing this to yourself again? Why are you hurting yourself when you knew that I was going to come back to you?" He was still moving ever closer to him and Charles' electric blue eyes were locked on the metal-bender's sea-storm ones. He was no longer happy. Sadness dominated his features and he hated himself for upsetting and worrying the older man so much.

However, then something caught the telepath's eye, something that the metal-bender was holding in his hand. A manila folder, packed to bursting. Instantly, Charles knew this was all of the information that Erik had acquired during his absence. He had obtained everything that he was interested in getting. He was still staring at the folder when he licked his lips and said, his voice filled with nervousness, "Alex. Please leave. And close the study doors behind you."

There was a brief silence during which the telepath knew that younger mutant had heard the fear in his mentor's voice and he became worried as well. He knew that whatever was bothering Charles had to be big because Charles didn't get upset over nothing. He always had a reason. Though he didn't exactly hear all of this going on in Alex's head, he was still unsurprised when he tried to speak before being cut off by Erik saying, "Do as Charles says."

Charles watched Alex leave, still glaring. The telepath waited until the younger mutant's footsteps had faded down the hall before he turned his gaze back to Erik's and whispered, "What did you find?"


End file.
